#as opposed to my brain being tired ya know?

[sneef-to-a-snorf-fight]

ack having one of those adhd days where i cant do stuff i enjoy cuz i want to be productive. but i cant do anything productive cuz im eepy and wanna do stuff i enjoy. and so we scroll tumblr dot com.

#this isnt even a pain or fatigue thing #im just eepy #well i guess that might be a fatigue thing #but like #idk i usually use the word fatigue to mean when my body is tired #as opposed to my brain being tired ya know? #like im just kinda eepy

[lovebugism]

Hii can i request “It’s a brain freeze, you’re not dying, stop making a scene.” with steve for the fictober event pretty please

ty for requesting lovie!! — you and steve get too drunk at a halloween party and chief hopper comes to save you (tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, tw for drinking and not being proofread, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve opens the back door of Jim’s cop car for you, swaying in place and urging your drunken limps inside. “Thanks for picking us up, Chief,” you chirp, slurring slightly and smiling wide.

The old grump sends you a deadpanned look over his shoulder. He’s visibly tired, features blurred with exhaustion. His white t-shirt and pajama pants are still wrinkled with leftover sleep. The two of you are wearing two a.m. very definitely.

“Yeah, yeah. Just buckle up, alright?” he hums gruffly as Steve slides in beside you. “I’m just happy you two called me and didn’t try to drive yourself.”

He puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb. The bass pulsing from Tina’s house begins to fade. The man flinches dramatically when you lean forward to slap his shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause we’re responsible adults,” you quip, then turn to your right to look at your boyfriend. “Aren’t we, Stevie?”

The Stevie in question is on a different planet entirely. His hair is a wild chestnut halo on his head, the crown of it tilted to the headrest. The tendons of his neck are on display, as are the faint red lipstick stains you pressed onto his tanned skin. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Cheeks rosy and eyes fluttered shut, you can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not.

“Right, Stevie?” you repeat with a gentle shove to his arm.

His eyes open, red-rimmed and glassy. “Hm?”

“We’re responsible.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Look at us,” he scoffs without a second thought.

The two of you flash a couple of drunk, lopsided grins at Jim, who peers at you from the rearview mirror. He grumbles something under his breath neither of you can make out.

You get distracted by the amber streetlights flitting by until looking out the window makes you queasy. When you look at Steve again, his eyes are shut and his chin is tilted towards his chest. You feel an obligation to keep him awake — like he’s concussed or something and not just piss drunk.

“You with me, Stevie?” you mutter, reaching for his face and holding his stubbly chin between your thumb and forefinger.

His heavy eyelids flutter slowly open. His dark eyes are honeyed. They flit like syrup across your features. A smile pulls at the right corner of his plush mouth. “You look so pretty right now, you know that?” he murmurs in inaudible slurs.

You hear him anyway, equally as drunk and speaking the same language even though Jim can’t understand a word.

“Just right now?” you tease. “As opposed to, like, every other moment in time?”

His bushy brows twist in offense — nose scrunching and lips pouting, like you’ve pained him by even joking about it. “No. You’re pretty all the time, just… A little extra like this.”

You don’t know what he means. You look like a total mess — hair wild, makeup smudged, drunk and fatigued and wearing it all over. But Steve looks at you like you’re beautiful anyway. Like you hung the fucking moon sitting full in the pitch black sky.

His brows raise and his eyes sparkle. “’S kinda makin’ my heart race a little bit, actually.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, turning him away from you and letting go of his chin. “That’s just the alcohol, Stevie.”

“No, it’s love—”

You giggle at his slurred singing, louder when he leans across the backseat to kiss you. His aim is horribly off, wet mouth smacking at the corner of your lips down towards your chin. 

Hopper shouts at you anyway. “Hey! Uh-uh, no sucking face in my backseat— especially not in front of me, alright?” the man grouses, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Spare me the emotional turmoil, will ya?”

You sneak a quiet peck to Steve’s pouted mouth when Jim’s not looking.

The boy grins with contentment a second later. “Mm,” he hums, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “You taste like cherry.”

“It’s the punch. It tasted just like slurpees, I swear—” You’re about to start rambling, then cut yourself off with a dramatic gasp. “Hopper!”

“No,” the man montones from the front seat. It’s like he can read your mind. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” you whine with a pout.

“I’m not stopping for slurpees, alright? I’m taking you kids home so you can sober up and get the hell out from under me. That’s it.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. For that fleeting second, Jim thinks he’s won. Then you and Steve inhale a deep breath and beg at the same time, “Pleaseeee!”

He sighs so deeply his chest deflates like a popped balloon. He readjusts his grip on the pleather steering wheel and grumbles like a storm cloud.

“Jim, please,” you beg, dramatic and terribly loud with it. The man flinches when you reach forward to grab his arm. He slows at a stoplight and turns back to look at you, bathed in neon red and sparkling with desperation. “I need slurpees to live.”

Jim blinks at you for a moment, then turns away when the light goes green again. He shakes his head and mumbles, “God, you’re so dramatic…” 

You smile all giddy as you sit back because you know you’ve won.

“You’re lucky I need to get gas, anyway,” he tells you, just to make himself feel better, as he pulls into the nearest Seven-Eleven parking.

The intensity of the fluorescent lights makes you squint. The very distant headache you’ve been fighting off since midnight starts to creep back up again. Steve sees this — because there’s nothing about you he doesn’t notice — and swipes his sunglasses off his face to put them on you.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you joke as he pushes the plastic up the bridge of your nose.

Jim, seemingly less grumpy than moments before, unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at the two of you over his shoulder. “That’s what you guys are supposed to be?” he scoffs out a laugh as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “Those kids from Grease?”

“No,” you answer with a dramatic drawl. “I’m you. Duh.”

Hopper almost breaks his neck with the double take he gives you. He squints at your tropical-patterned shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and tucked into your jeans, and realizes you are him. He doesn’t know if he should be mad or honored.

“I was supposed to be Sandy, but then Steve ripped the costume,” you reason with a shrug.

Jim’s eyes narrow. “Was it too small?”

“Nope,” you answer in a monotone, popping the ‘p.’

His scruffy face twists like he’s tasted something sour. “You guys are disgusting.”

“It was a blessing in disguise, though. This is, like, a kajillion times more comfortable.”

Steve nods beside you, slow and sloppy and full of hubris. “This was a much better choice.”

“It’s super hot, right?”

“Total dilf material.”

Jim’s features scrunch. It’s like you two are speaking a different language. “What the hell does that mean?” he wonders aloud. 

You and Steve share a look before snickering and getting out of the car. 

He repeats, louder this time. “Hey. What does dilf mean? Hey! I’m talking to you—”

His only answer is the slam of the car door.

Like an annoyed father, Jim swears at the two of you under his breath while he pumps gas but eyes both of you attentively to make sure you get inside without busting your ass. 

When he follows you to pay, he finds you acting like a couple of unsupervised toddlers. You lick flavored ice from your fingertips while Steve leans back with his face beneath the lever, pouring blue raspberry slush into his mouth.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim scolds from the entrance, brows pinched and mouth agape. Your eyes go wide, still licking syrup from your fingers. Steve, meanwhile, is still trying to swallow his melting mouthful. Hopper shakes his head. “There are cups right next to you.”

The man escorts the both of you out after he pays. 

Steve holds one of your hands and swings it between your bodies. Your free hand is at your head, rubbing gently at your temples. The ache is distant and dull, like an ice pick has been shoved inside your skull.

“Ow…” you whine softly to yourself when getting into the car jostles the pain. 

Jim watches you try and fail to buckle yourself in. He can’t tell if you’re still just drunk or if your headache’s making it harder for you. Maybe both. He reaches over to help you anyway.

“It’s just a brain freeze, you’re not dying,” the man grouses over your whining, clicking the latch into place. “Stop making a scene about it. You’re fine.”

He leans back from you and is about to shut the door. Then, with a flat face, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“My head hurts…” you murmur, slurring like a sick child desperate to be babied.

Hopper sighs. “You’re okay…”

He shuts the door with a gentle push. He gets into the driver’s seat and resumes the drive home in a relative quiet.

You and Steve lean against each other in the backseat. He hogs the slurpee you both agreed to share, but you don’t mind. You’re still fighting off a headache like you’re fighting off sleep.

“Did you have fun?” the boy asks you, resting his cheek against your hair. You can smell the blue raspberry on his breath.

“I always have fun,” you mumble.

“At Halloween parties?”

“No, dummy. With you.”

“Oh,” he hums with a crooked smile you can’t see. “Sweet.”

Jim’s smiling to himself before he means to, shaking his head at how goddamn in love the two of you are. It’s so sanguine, it makes him sick.

He slows when he pulls up to Steve’s house. The mansion is totally empty — not a car in the driveway or a single light on. No one’s here, because no one’s ever here. 

“Alright, lovebirds. We’re here. Get out,” he announces, voice gruff with the sleep he wishes he was getting.

The car jerks softly when he puts it in park. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds you and Steve totally knocked out. Eyes shut, mouths open, lips stained purple from red and blue slurpees.

Jim huffs. “You gotta be kidding me…”

He feigns annoyance about the whole thing because he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s the grumpy old man you come to for help — that’s his thing. So even in your sleep, he grumbles with a light-hearted irritation as he drives you back to the cabin. At least there he can keep an eye on you both.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[vmpiires]

ok i got one. gojo fucking y/n until her brain doesn’t practically work / until her brain goes to mush 💯💯💪🏾💪🏾

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

„𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, light sex, praising, proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 936

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; wrote this up in class. i hope ya likeeee. reblog to support meeeee and if you want more :D

destiny’s child’s song “say my name” was playing loudly off your spotify playlist on your tv as you brushed your hair. your hair was dry after you washed it and did your hair care routine. you’d put some oil in your hair for extra moisture and continue to brush it from the ends going up to your scalp.

“heyyyy, i love this song.” you heard gojo say as he entered your room. you could hear him singing along with the song. his goofiness made you smile and it always made your day when you were upset.

you turn around to him, “i didn’t know you liked this song,” you giggle. gojo nodded, having a big goofy grin on his face.

“yeahh, i love your music taste…uh..some of it,” he chuckled. it was true, gojo loved the songs you played. whether it was some violent gang banging music or something soft like chris brown or any 80s-90s rnb songs, he was always down to test the waters of your music.

“hey, hurry up and finish your hair, i wanna cuddle.” gojo stated as he began taking off his shirt. the male was out with his best friend, geto, doing some work and fighting off any spirits they might’ve encountered during that time. you couldn’t blame him for being tired.

you finish with your hair and put a bonnet on your head so it could be protected while you relaxed with gojo in bed and turned off your music, putting on a random movie to play on netflix. you lie down beside your icy haired boyfriend and he immediately puts his arms around you, holding you tightly.

gojo starts kissing your shoulder, slightly distracting you from the movie that you were watching. you didn’t know what was happening but you were interested in the film sort of. it wasn’t long until gojo was on top of you, kissing you all over.

“i thought you said you wanted to cuddle,” you interject, making gojo stop and smirk at you. when he made that face, you knew what he was up to and you weren’t opposed to his actions so you let him continue.

sexual interaction with gojo was sort of funny because he was always making jokes with you while he was forcing his dick in your guts, which made you stop laughing at him. you had a feeling he’d do that again.

tonight was different. gojo was prepping you, sticking his face in your wetness. you could feel the tip of his nose tickling your cunt while his tongue circled your folds then plunged down into you, sucking and slurping your fluids.

you put your hand down on his head and gripped his snow white hair. your hips bucked into his face before gojo would push his hands down against your hips, forcing you to stop your movement.

your moans were motivating him to move faster. he’d lift his head only to spit on your womanhood and continue to lick you until you were clean and ready for him, just so he could ruin you all over again. once he finished with that, he’d remove his boxers and stuff his length inside you without warning, making you yelp.

gojo laughed, “did i surprise you? or did it hurt?” he asked, still having that smile on his face even though his face was covered in your fluids. he didn’t even bother wiping it off. he liked the feeling of your mess coating his skin like a face mask. now he wanted to feel everything. and he wanted you to feel it too.

you shake your head, “you just didn’t give me a warning, that’s all.” you managed to get out between all of your moaning and groaning. trying your hardest to not turn into a moaning mess. but he’d do it to you anyway.

while the unknown movie played on your tv, gojo was pounding into you, showing no signs of stopping. he put his head down into the crook of your neck, kissing it. his kisses turned into bites while simultaneously sucking your skin to create a hickey.

“what’s my name, princess?” you heard gojo ask. you were so drunk off pleasure that you completely forgot what was going on. you forgot where you were. your mind completely blank. the only thing on your mind was gojo and how he was making you feel.

“gojo,” you moan. he’d pick up his speed, wanting to see his bulge through your stomach as he pounded you into the bed. you felt like your were sinking down into the mattress because of the position he was holding you in.

“sorry, i didn’t exactly hear what you said.” gojo chuckled before he let out a long and deep groan. he would continue to slam into you until he heard his name filling the room countless times.

he was fucking you dumb. you felt like a mindless zombie that only knew one word. one name. you were drooling all over yourself as your mouth hung open and your head leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

“is that all you know how to say?” gojo teased. you couldn’t even say anything to counter her statement. you were lost in another world. a place you couldn’t even comprehend.

before you knew it, you were making another mess for him. you let out a contempt sigh when the two of you finish. you felt exhausted but you felt like you wanted another round at the same time.

“okay, now we can cuddle.” gojo beamed, smiling at you, laying his head down on you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

#choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen #𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #anime #jjk choso #choso x black!reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen choso #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x black reader

[cruciferous-spatula]

slowly crawling out of my hidey hole

hello! long time eh? i promise i haven't been at exams for all of two months. sometimes real life happens and you have to go spend time with your family across the country and feel some feels. ya feel?

long ramble under cut

at some point i developed this mental allergy to the IDEA of my test of time hood and tried to set up a contemporary game to play in. that took forever and i grew tired of that too before i'd even played it. also dabbled in sims 3 a bit. the island paradise ep is a bit of a whale isn't it? also why is that game so janky? why does it break every time you add a mod? why is the native story progression barely even there? why do ALL townies age up into that horrible alien outfit and space boots i can't get rid of because it came with the seasons ep i believe? why is it enabled for all outfit types? who is responsible for the game being not optimised at all? also where does time go when i play?

also there's this game called A Highland Song that's actually good and has taken over my brain slightly. You should play it, it's beautiful. You may remember the creators from Heaven's Vault which is also beautiful and you should also play that. My gamer partner doesn't understand my longstanding sims 2 monogamy (more like mono game-y, ayooo) and has convinced me to try a new thing every now and then and yeah, not the worst idea it turns out.

I can't promise daily updates this time, mainly because i signed up for too many classes again and have to get through the entire european literary canon in the next few months. just letting y'all know that i'm fine, i'm home, i'm returning to my little civilization and whatever will have to pass for normalcy now.

also. genocide is bad, actually. is this a tone crime? this is barely even an entertainment blog but i personally believe there are cases where silence is complicity, and this is the one platform i have. so,

please consider donating to relief efforts for the Palestinian people. Here's the one Biden's administration recently cut off funding from based on dubious Israeli allegations: https://donate.unrwa.org/-landing-page/en_EN

palestine children's relief fund: https://www.pcrf.net/

wfp: https://www.wfp.org/emergencies/palestine-emergency

if you're in the uk, write to you're mp and demand a ceasefire: https://www.map.org.uk/campaigns/it-is-becoming-impossible-to-sustain-human-life-in-gaza-demand-a-ceasefirenow

please use your voice in whatever way you can to oppose ongoing crimes against humanity.

be safe.

[mercuryonparklane]

I know it’s been a while since I made a tayliz crack theory post. So, now that the Eras Tour is happening and we are getting footage from it, I have a few thoughts.

First of all, I love that Paramore included “That’s What You Get” in their set. It makes my Tayliz-loving heart happy, even if it’s just a coincidence.

Now, let’s talk about “‘tis the damn season”. I’m no music expert, but I still think the guitar riff sounds a bit like a sped up version of the guitar riff in the song Liz wrote called “Don’t Let It Hurt You” and watching the footage of Taylor performing ttds reminded me of this.

The dress Taylor wears during ttds is a similar color to Liz’s Mean dresses:

Of course, the Mean music video is also the one with Willow sign on the windmill (not that I necessarily think willow is about Liz, but it could be):

And, of course, I have to mention that ttds is supposed to be the sister song to dorothea, which includes similar lyrics to Liz’s song Never Know (a song Taylor clearly references in the 1):

“Do you ever stop and think about me”

vs

“And I wonder if you think about me”

“I guess I’ll never know”

vs

“I guess I’ll never know”

(Yes, it the same exact lyric - not even a slight change like she did in the 1)

Yes, both of these are a pretty generic lines and if not for the line in the 1, and Liz making a point to tweet about that song in particular, I probably wouldn’t have even thought about these lyrical connections, but they do seem to be references to Never Know.

Not to mention, that the next line in dorothea is “and you’ll go on with the show”

That line could hold so many meanings. The obvious one being that even with Liz gone, the show will still go on. She was not a necessity to keep the Taylor show going. There’s also the idea that Taylor, the public persona, is all for show and now that Liz is out of the loop, she might now know what’s really going on in Taylor’s actual, private life. She may only get to see what the rest of the world is allowed to see. Of course, with quite a bit more insight than fans/the general public and she might be able to tell which smiles Taylor is faking. And Taylor will continue to only show the world what she wants it to see.

Plus, the whole sentiment of dorothea (especially in the sense that it is meant to be the opposing POV to ttds) reminds me so much of the song Liz wrote called “Not Going Anywhere”:

“It’s never too late

To come back to me side”

(This also reminds me of this lyric in Never Know “you’d come back to me like the tide”)

“And if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know

You know that you’ll always know me”

“And damn, Dorothea

They all wanna be ya

But are you still the same soul

I met under the bleachers”

vs

“When you always have a better place to be

Some upgrade to the company you keep

Does the distance make it hard to see

Old friends like me, not going anywhere?”

“Oh, this world can seem so small for you

Rising up above the clouds”

“If they ever stop this fast train you are on

And you don’t recognize where you get off

You don’t ever have to be lost and alone

Just come back home

I’m not going anywhere”

Taylor also does a little, tiny head bang around the 1:58 mark of the video of her performing ttds. The crack theory part of my brain wants to say it is a nod to “Better Than Revenge”, but the more rational side of my brain reminds me that Taylor has been head banging her whole career (even before Liz joined the band).

So, in conclusion, ttds and dorothea (and of course, the 1) could be about Liz (she did continue live in Nashville for a long time even after she left, or was forced out of, Taylor’s band). But the lyric references don’t necessarily mean they had a relationship or that these songs are about Liz. It could be a coincidence or maybe the songs are actually fictional (I don’t really buy that, though) and she thought it would be a fun little nod to her old friend/former backup singer to reference her song (that just so happens to include a lyric about how Liz catches herself singing the muse’s old song, which I imagine would be easy to do if you had to sing the songs probably hundreds of times between rehearsals and performances).

#tayliz crack theory

[starsscribble]

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

  You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

  “Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes. 

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road. 

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief. 

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

  Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat. 

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick. 

  Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

  And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

  You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on. 

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead. 

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young. 

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive. 

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him. 

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

  The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face. 

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick. 

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder. 

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’ 

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps. 

  And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

  Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were. 

  And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

  Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine. 

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken. 

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

  Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

  The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together. 

  The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house. 

  Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

  You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know. 

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids. 

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home.  Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit. 

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion. 

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

  God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

  You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind. 

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended. 

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time. 

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed. 

  He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world. 

  I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

#walking dead #walking dead imagine #walking dead x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes angst

[squarefriend]

CHARACTER MEME WITH ACHENAR >:3c

Ohohohohhohohohoho Ace my friend, you have made the mistake of allowing me to ramble about Achenar >:)

(Spoilers for Myst I - IV bellow btw)

Achenar:

🔵 favorite thing about them: Easily his redemption arc. I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I was automatically favoring him in the first game (can’t go wrong with big, burly, and feral) but OHMAN. His arc is so well done??? And setting it over the twenty odd years he was trapped on Haven just makes it feel much more real and believable. And you can do clearly see his difference in mind set and his progression through his journals I just AAAAAAA. And knowing that he dies a good man just hits extra hard, ya know??? Also because I have a HUGE soft spot for monkeys and other primates haha.

��� least favorite thing about them: This is more of a thing with the game itself as opposed to Achenar but the continuity errors make me kinda sad. I feel like they really could’ve played with both brothers recognizing the stranger and how that in turn effected their actions. Other than that though, pretty much nothing. The closest I can come is what he did in his earlier years (cause murder and torture are kinda a shitty thing to do) but they fit in too well with his characterization and arc to complain ^^.

🔵 favorite line: Can I say his entire second journal in Haven???? Cause that. It perfectly demonstrates the man he has become and how hard it was to get there. No joke, I cry every time I hear it being read. He just sounds so tired… But if I had to choose a line from those pages it would be,

“THEY'VE GIVEN ME A NAME! What am I supposed to do with this, Father?!! What am I supposed to do?”

Ow.

🔵 brOTP: Hard choice. I’d have to go with either the Stranger or Yeesha. I ADORE thinking about what would’ve happened if he lived. I think the Stranger and him would bond and become buddies as he heals, and he’d confide in them a lot. I like the mental image of them helping him out on Haven (it’s more a home than a prison now) sometimes, or bringing him goods. BUT ON THE OTHER HAND him being a good big bro to Yeesha. They room together for awhile, make up for lost time. He takes her out on trips to Haven sometimes, and she tries to teach him about stars. By the end they all three have friendship bracelets.

🔵 OTP: No one actually. I head cannon him as aro/ace haha

🔵 nOTP: Any of his siblings. It makes me VERY uncomfortable lmaooo

🔵 random headcannon: Achenar actually learned a lot about cooking while trapped on Haven. When you don’t have a lot of ingredients, you get creative, because even Mr. Sleeps-on-a-LITTERAL-bedframe over there is going to get tired of the same dish over and over again. Plus he mentions (rather morbidly) wanting to know what Primate tastes like. So yeah. He learned a thing or two, and can make a MEAN fried plantain.

🔵 unpopular opinion: Well. I don’t really have many, considering I agree with the majority of the fandom of most things haha! The biggest is that I think if Achenar survived it would take quite some time to actually be ok with his family again. There’s a lot of raw nerves on both sides, and they take a while to figure eachother out again. Also in my brain he inevitably moves willingly back to Haven and settles there.

🔵 song i associate with them: oh god don’t make me pick— Ok so. Sugar by System of a Down for preHaven Achenar, Vagabond by Misterwives for postHaven Achenar, and Brave as A Noun by AJJ for an ‘if he lived’ AU. Also I am going to mention Worksong by Hozier because I can’t not talk about Myst and not plug a buddies fic that has forever tied that song and Achenar in my brain.

(It’s called ‘fret none about what my hands and my body have done’ by @sugarweregoingdownswinging please read it, it is so so so so good. Here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30179244 )

🔵 favorite picture of them: the classic:

#myst game #d’ni #not undertale #sorry people who are following me for merely Undertale content #Achenars like half a set of red and blue colour coded brothers so CLOSE ENOUGH #Anyways #he’s my poor little meow meow I make the rules #Achenar #ask game

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: Three

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/commented on the last chapter. You are all lovely and deserve a Whiskey of your own. This chapter still revolves around the plot of the film, so if you have any questions just let me know! I hope this little story can make you smile at least for a moment. My asks and DMs are always open.

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 5.7k

Rating For This Chapter: T for guns, blood, injuries

Catch up on the Prologue, Chapters One, and Two here!

Y/N sat at the bar and ordered a cranberry juice.

Butterfly Guy was sitting with Eggsy, Whiskey, and a guy who insisted on being called Merlin in a booth near the window.

“Rough day, sugar?” Paula the bartender asked as she set down the cloudy glass filled with purple-red juice.

“Rough couple of days,” she muttered and handed over a handful of crumpled bills that Paula methodically straightened out before placing them in the till. Paula was basically an agent in her own right. She’d been part of the bar for nearly twenty years and since only Statesmen drank here and knew of its existence, they spoke freely about their work. She probably knew more classified intel than some junior agents.

“You sure I can’t get you anything stronger?” She asked, her bleach blonde hair swiping over her shoulders. “Something with a little more oomph?”

“Just the cranberry juice for now.” She smiled and sipped on the too-bitter drink and resisted puckering her lips at the taste. “But thank you.”

Paula nodded and cast a glance at the table where the agents sat. “You know, Whiskey keeps lookin’ over here.”

She ignored the twisting in her stomach and took a large gulp. “ ‘s just post-mission jitters.”

“Uh-huh,” Paula said with a roll of her eyes. “Sure. When a handsome man looks at me like that…” she drifted off with a raise of her eyebrows.

(But she wouldn’t deny that she noticed Whiskey looking at her a little more often. When they met up after she implanted the tracker in Clara, she noticed Whiskey kept turning away every so often, a hand tucked in his front pocket. It was a common gesture used by men to hide an erection, she knew that—she just didn’t believe he would have one at that moment. They were in the middle of a mission. There was no way he was hiding a boner. But the thought was fun.)

Thankfully, Agent Moonshine started hollering and she sighed into her drink and got up from her barstool and walked behind the bar.

Paula was watching the scene unfold like she hadn’t watched a million bar fights before and looked ready to piss herself. Sunny patted her on the shoulder and signaled for her to hide in the little cubby beneath the register.

The Butterfly Guy quickly made a fool of himself, trying to teach Moonshine and his buddies some manners and she leaned against the sticky bar to watch as Whiskey stood from his seat. It wasn’t the first time she would watch Whiskey kick Moonshine’s ass but it was always fun to witness.

And those tight jeans did wonders for his butt.

While she would never understand his affinity for his lasso or his whip, it was nice to watch him work (and to see Moonshine bleed a little).

As he finished, Moonshine and his hangers-on all unconscious or bleeding enough to keep them still, Whiskey adjusted his hat and let out a whistle. “I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.”

She snorted and finished her drink as Paula slowly came out from the cubby and gaped at the mess. “It looks like a tornado came through here, boss. I think you owe Paula another window.”

“And new glasses!” Paula said with a frown.

She patted Paula’s shoulder again with a promise that the window would be fixed within a handful of hours as the televisions switched from the football game and were overtaken by a wash of yellow and red with an obnoxious chime.

A woman draped in a horrendous yellow outfit with fiery red hair soon filled the screens. “Mr. President, my name is Poppy Adams. I believe the UN has no teeth. So I've selected you, as leader of the free world, to receive this communication. And I invite you to begin negotiations on the largest scale hostage situation in history. A few weeks ago, an engineered virus was released and contained in all varieties of my product: cannabis, cocaine, heroin, opium, ecstasy, and crystal meth.” Each line item popped up on the screen in a pretty font. Cap looked over to see Whiskey already looking at her, lips pulled into a frown. “Some of you are already infected. And this is what you can expect in the coming days. After a brief incubation period, victims present with stage one symptoms: a blue rash. Next, second stage symptoms appear: mania, as the virus enters the brain. Very distressing to the victim and those around them. Stage three: paralysis. Muscles enter a state of catastrophic seizure. And once the muscles of the thorax become affected, breathing becomes impossible.” She watched as one new victim after another was revealed on the screen until blood spurted out of the last man’s eyes and nose, dead for millions to witness. “This leads to a very nasty death within 12 hours. But I have good news to the millions already affected. It doesn't have to be this way. I have an antidote.” Poppy held up a clear vial filled with an amber liquid—and Elton John behind another glass wall.

“What have you done to me, you fucking bitch?” God bless Elton John.

Undeterred by Elton John’s outburst, Poppy continued, “100% effective and ready to ship out worldwide at a moment's notice. I will do this if the following conditions are met. First, you agree to end the war on drugs, once and for all. All classes of substance are legalized paving the way to a new marketplace in which sales are regulated and taxed just like alcohol. And second, my colleagues and I receive full legal immunity. Meet my terms. I look forward to helping you keep our beloved country great, boosting our ailing economy, and easing spending on law enforcement. Or continue this blinkered, outmoded, and, frankly, disastrous exercise in prohibition, and live with blood on your hands. Save lives. Legalize.”

The broadcast ended and the televisions screens quickly flipped back to the football game. Whiskey was at her side in a blink of an eye. His hand brushed down her back. “We gotta talk to Champ, Sunny.”

And that was how she found herself bundled in winter gear on an Italian mountainside. Clara had called Charlie, and thanks to the tracking device she had implanted at Glastonbury, they were able to pick up the conversation. Charlie told Clara (who was now covered in the blue rash) to meet him at the ski resort they’d visited last year so he could give her the antidote. The tracking device could pinpoint their exact location and everyone was betting that the Italian resort was one of the storehouses for the antidote.

But she was also wondering, once again, why she found Whiskey attractive. He was in a terrible blue and white snowsuit that had to have been made in the 1970s. And he still refused to take off his damned cowboy hat. She appreciated the dedication to his aesthetic but it still seemed…ridiculous.

And he’d been grating on her last nerve on the flight over.

Ginger had buzzed in and suggested that Cap be the one to retrieve the antidote because only Clara would recognize her as opposed to Charlie possibly recognizing Eggsy or Butterfly Man (who she was told to call either Galahad or Harry). Whiskey then laughed—loudly—and stated plainly that he would be planning the mission and Ginger should stick to her computers and gadgets. “It isn’t like ya have any experience in the field.”

She really thought about murdering her boss for the rest of the flight. Her plots to kill him only got more creative when he told her to stay at the safe-house when they landed.

She was tired. She was angry.

And that was probably why she finally snapped. “If you didn’t want me to come along, you could have just told Champ. God knows you don’t listen to anyone else.” She hefted her bag filled with her own weapons and ammo higher onto her shoulder and turned away from him, readying to hike up toward the house and stew in her lonesome until the three men returned—hopefully with the antidote in hand.

But his hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop before she could get very far. “That ain’t fair, Sunny.”

She pulled out of his grip with a poorly hidden snarl. “No. You’re not fair. To me. To Ginger. All because of some bullshit you think is right.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. I’ve been in this game a long time-”

“And I’ve been in it longer-”

“-and I can take care of myself. What you’re doing to Ginger is so fucking backwards I’m surprised you can see straight,” she hissed it out like a curse. “I’m tired, Whiskey. I’m so tired of watching her jump through hoops trying to get you to notice that she could outperform half the agents in the field and you want her stuck behind the desk until she dies. I’m tired of you thinking you know best in the field. Why do you even request me to go with you if you’re going to undermine me every step of the way?”

Whiskey’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Her shoulders slumped. Harry and Eggsy both looked like they were very interested in the calibrations of their earpieces and not listening to what just happened. God this whole situation was pathetic. They were trying to save the world and she was waffling between yearning and rage for her stupid boss. She trudged away in the snow toward the safe house and barely heard Whiskey say, “what are you lookin’ at, Butterfly Guy?”

But she continued on, up the mountain and found the small shack of a house and swept the perimeter before settling in. She comm’ed in only to say she reached the safe house. Eggsy responded cheerfully but she didn’t respond when Whiskey also chimed in with a, “good work, Sunny.”

Time ticked by.

There was a commotion on the other end of the comm line when Butterfly Guy wouldn’t respond—and then all she heard was Eggsy and Whiskey screaming. She rolled her eyes. They were so dramatic. But soon, the trio was making their way toward the safe-house and she didn’t bother to open the door when she heard them outside. They all hobbled in, mid-argument.

Eggsy pulled out a small vial and showed it to her with a smile she had to reciprocate. “You got it.”

“We did. A little dicey—Charlie recognized me.”

She glanced at Whiskey who frowned in return. It didn’t matter. Ginger had been right and now he knew it.

“Can I see it, kid?” Whiskey asked with his hand outstretched as he walked toward them. But then his dark eyes tracked to the window and widened. “Get down!” Whiskey all but tackled both Eggsy and her to the dusty ground of the house as bullets started to fly. Glass shattered. Wood splintered.

She watched, unable to do anything from her pinned position, as the small vial was all but knocked from Eggsy’s hand and shattered on the ground.

“You fucking dickhead!” Eggsy hollered as he scrambled out from under Whiskey to look over the spilled antidote, almost uncaring of the bullets whizzing by.

“Fuck you, I just saved your life!” Whiskey retorted.

“Yeah, and cost millions of people theirs!”

She had to slap at Whiskey’s thigh to get him to move off her and she rolled off into the corner when he did. The rain of bullets stopped for a moment and she looked out the window. “They’re reloading.”

Whiskey nodded. “All right, I'll fix their wagons. Cover me, boys!” And then he all but bolted out of the house, guns blazing.

With a roll of her eyes, ignoring how Whiskey had told the ‘boys’ to cover him, she followed suit and ran out into the snow, pulling her guns out from their holsters. The shootout was nothing she hadn’t seen before and, while she didn’t have all the flair most of the Statesmen agents had, she could mow down people just as efficiently. (The acrobatics the Statesmen and Kingsman agents seemed so fond of really just seemed…excessive.)

Whiskey went through the left flank so she went through the unlucky men on the right.

It was easy pickings, really. Despite the heavy artillery and uneven numbers, it was almost too simple of a gunfight. But the adrenaline rush was nice. It had been too long since she had felt her heart beat this fast. Bullets were flying by her head as she dove behind a tree and then twisted to shoot down the other man. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Whiskey pull out his electric lasso and then cut a man in half who came out with a knife.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she muttered as she stood, lowering her guns and quietly thankful that Whiskey wasn’t hurt.

There was a single gunshot and she froze. A familiar cold crept up her torso and one last man stepped out from the tree line with his gun raised right in her direction. The barrel smoked. But his eyes were wide like he couldn’t quite understand that he’d actually managed to shoot her. With a snarl, she pulled her guns up again and fired twice, painting the trees and snow behind him in a spattering of red.

“Sunny!” Whiskey yelled as he spotted her.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and felt the terrible, wet warmth soak her palm. She holstered her guns again and stepped out to look at him, turning ever so slightly to hide the blossoming red from him. “We’re good.”

“You should’ve stayed in the house.”

“You needed back up!” She said, marching toward the house despite feeling her legs shake. Pressing against the wound only made bile rise in her throat.

“The kid and Butterfly Guy-”

“It’s over, boss. Let’s just-”

Whiskey suddenly grabbed at her waist and all but threw her into the house and she nearly lost her footing. She barely had time to recognize the pain suddenly roaring through her system as the adrenaline started to fade.

“Troop carrier coming in. And I’m out of ammo—whaddya got?” He asked, pointedly looking at Eggsy and Harry.

But they were both looking at Whiskey’s hand.

He slowly raised it to his face and saw it covered in blood. His head snapped to the side to look at her. “Sunny?”

Her knees finally buckled and she hit the weathered wood. She shakily caught herself with her other hand, feeling blood slip between her fingers. She coughed and watched as blood splattered against the wood.

“They’ve got Gatling guns!”

Whiskey was yelling. Bullets whizzed by. And the beat of her heart started to drown out everything else.

“Harry, no!” She barely heard Eggsy shout.

And then, in her quickly-hazing vision, she watched Whiskey’s body crumple to the floor beside hers. She reached out a bloody hand toward him without thinking, pressing crimson-colored fingers against his face as if that would stop the bleeding.

“He broke the vial on purpose, Eggsy. If we made it out of here, he was gonna kill us both!”

The world went dark.  

                                                     **

The sterile scent of HQ’s medical wing was a welcoming aroma as her eyes opened.

“There you are.” Ginger leaned over her with a soft smile. “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.”

“No pain?” She asked as she helped Cap sit up slowly.

“A bit tender—but I know what feeling shot in the chest feels like so I would prefer this.” She pulled at the bland, cotton-blend shirt she was dressed in and saw her stomach covered in a bit of gauze and tape. Despite Ginger telling her not to, she pulled at the coverings to reveal the mostly-healed bullet wound and then pushed back into the pillows. It looked like it had already been healing for weeks instead of a day or two. Statesmen truly knew how to patch someone up. But then a thought struck her. “Where’s Whiskey?”

And Ginger’s soft, answering smile calmed her suddenly clenching heart. “He’s in the next room over, Cap. He’ll wake up soon. Eggsy gave him the Alpha Gel and it worked like it was supposed to.”

She pushed out a long breath through her nose and nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Ginger’s watch beeped. She looked at the small screen and sighed. “I will be back. Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I promise nothing.”

Ginger chuckled, having heard that answer many times before, and let herself out of the room. 

She let herself stew for a moment (it was really about an hour). Her life had really gone off the rails since Vegas. It was one thing to secretly harbor amorous thoughts about your boss. It was another to scream at him, get shot, and then see him get shot after seeing him (possibly) thwart any efforts to get the antidote and save millions of people. And she had a chance to say something to Ginger. But she didn’t.

Hm.

She carefully slid off the bed and winced when a bolt of pain zig-zagged through her body as her feet touched the cold floor. Shuffling over to the door, she peered out into the hallway and then stepped out. Whiskey’s holding room was only a few footsteps away.

Should she go in? But then what would she say?

Should she just go back to her room and pretend she was unconscious the entire time and remembered exactly nothing from Italy? But what was she trying to forget anyway?

But, thankfully, Eggsy found her in the middle of the hall and broke her rambling thoughts. He pocketed his phone and looked a bit worried as he noticed her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Better than I should be after being shot. You?”

He started to nod but then shook his head. “My girlfriend…she, uh, she’s got the blue rash.” He rubbed at his forehead.

“You care about her. Probably more than you should, right?” That was easy to see. Eggsy was a good kid, probably a little too easy to read. “Especially in this line of work.”

“You get it—Kingsmen aren’t allowed to have attachments. And I…” he tried to grasp at the words he needed, “love her.”

“Statesmen doesn’t have that rule. Probably because we’re very bad at following any sort of guideline anyway.” She shrugged and regretted the movement as it pulled at her wound. “But that means you’ve got less than 12 hours. You got a plan?”

Eggsy quickly explained that they had been able to trace Poppy’s location to Cambodia and they were heading out there now. But his eyes quickly widened as he realized he had just revealed a plan to a potentially dangerous adversary.

“Relax, Eggsy. I’m not the one you shot in the head.” She waved him on. “Go. Save the world. Look out for landmines.”

“Landmines?” Eggsy parroted, face scrunching into a confused frown.

“If Poppy’s as crazy as I think she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has nonsense like that. Who knows? Maybe she has a fleet of man-eating robots, too.”

“What are you on about?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen some stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled and started to walk away. “You should come to London when this is all over. I’ll get you a drink!”

She smiled a bit and watched him disappear around a corner before her eyes once again drifted toward Whiskey’s door. “…fuck.” Against her better judgement, she walked up and let the door glide open without a sound. The room was quiet. Whiskey was motionless on the bed, face still covered by the machine to help the Alpha Gel finish its work. His vitals were steady, displayed on large screens across the wall.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

She slipped gingerly into a chair near the bed and resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand. He just looked so…vulnerable. It was so unlike him. An angry, terrible twisting pulled at her chest. “I’m not sorry I yelled at you, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was talking to him but the words kept coming anyway. “You need to let Ginger out in the field. She’d be a better agent than me. I don’t know why you’re… I don’t understand you at all, actually. I wish I did, I think. I wish I could understand you and why you do things and say things. I wish I could understand why you make me feel so stupid.”

Maybe being this close to death—again—was making her sentimental. Or maybe the pain medication was making her crazy.

Probably the second option. Hopefully, anyway.

The door opened again and Ginger stepped in. “I knew I’d find you in here.”

“How’d you figure that?”

Ginger gave her a look but didn’t answer. “It is about time we wake him up. You remember how it’s like, right?”

She nodded. She had heard stories about how most agents needed a ‘reminder’ of a traumatic event to bring them back to the present and how their minds could be a bit foggy for a few days after, but she had never seen it in person. But she basically knew what to except--right? 

With a flip of a few switches, the machine receded and Whiskey’s eyes opened. He was up and off the bed with a spring in his gait that had her laughing as he gave some terrible pick-up line to Ginger. But the laugh drew his attention and his body went rigid as his eyes landed on her. “Sunny.”

She felt tension she didn’t realize she was holding leech from her shoulders as he smiled at her. “Hey, boss.”

Ginger tucked something back in her pocket and her smile seemed to reach her ears. “I’ll leave you two…alone. But I’m just outside if you need anything.” She then scurried out and left her alone with Whiskey and her hammering heart.

“Sunshine.” The new nickname was all but crushing to her heart, caving in her chest.

She waved him back to the bed and told him to rest before she curled her fingers around his hand. It was warm and calloused and, as cliché as it sounded, seemed to fit hers perfectly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot in the head.”

She almost laughed and her other hand carefully pushed his still-impeccably styled hair away from the bandage covering a small bit of his temple. “Yeah. You look great for a dead man, though.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” But he said it with a smile and squeezed her hand. “Say it again.”

“You look great.” And her smile grew, heart a little lighter.

He huffed out a laugh but then a long silence stretched between them. She looked away from his dark eyes but didn’t pull her hand away from his, fearing he’d disappear if she did.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sunshine?” He squeezed at her hand until she looked at him again.

“I’m okay. They fixed me up just fine. A new scar for the collection.”

His smile slowly dropped and he placed his other hand over hers, too. “I saw you drop. You were bleedin’ out and I-”

“I saw you get shot, too, you know. Butterfly Guy has an interesting way of showing he doesn’t trust someone.” She shook the thought away. Harry’s brain was scrambled, too. “I’m just happy you’re okay. Your brain might feel a bit funny for a day or two, but I’ll be here.”  

“Where are they now? The Brits?”

“They’re on their way to Cambodia. They think they’ve found Poppy’s base.”

Whiskey all but yanked his hands from hers and threw his legs over the side of the bed before standing on his long legs. She quickly stood too, chair clattering backward. “We’ve gotta go. Tell Ginger to get the Silver Pony on the runway.” He started toward the door before she grabbed at his arm.

“Boss, c’mon. You need to rest-”

“I need to make sure that bitch doesn’t get what she wants.”

She was scrambling then, hands pawing up his arm to grasp at his face. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at him. His dark eyes looked so cold. Unfocused. She knew the Alpha Gel could scramble someone’s brain as it physically repaired it, pushing them into old habits and thoughts and fears. She knew Whiskey wasn’t thinking right at the moment—no matter how soft he had been with her moments ago, this wasn’t her Whiskey. Her mouth went dry. Thoughts raced by as the pit she had felt growing in her stomach expanded to an abyss. She knew what he’d been through. The death of his wife at the hands of some coked-out druggies was an open secret. And she knew her own grief, dealt with it in her own way—not all of it healthy, she knew. But she had to try. She knew the look of a man who wanted vengeance no matter the cost—and, right now, the cost was millions of lives. “Do you know why I don’t drink?”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said as he pulled out of her grip.

“Drunk driver plowed into my dad’s car. I was at the local pool with some friends and Dad piled everyone in to pick me up so we could get ice cream after. They never made it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you think I hold it against everyone who likes to put a little something extra in their coffee? Likes to have a little liquid courage to talk to the cute guy across the bar?”

Whiskey’s face twisted and his eyes seemed to dilate before he scrunched them shut. A shaking hand pushed through his hair.

“I work at a distillery for a man named Whiskey.”

Another silence stretched between them. She would swear he could hear her heartbeat in the quiet of the room.

A careful hand reached out to touch his wrist, too afraid to do much else. “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

And his eyes finally opened.

                                                        **

Champ smiled and congratulated them on a job well done. It was a week since the entire Golden Circle situation had been handled. Tequila was well. Whiskey’s mind was clear. And their profits had never been higher.

Merlin, Harry, and Eggsy were standing at the end of the table and each held a glass of amber liquid as everyone raised a toast. Whiskey was sitting across from his Sunny, golden glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He probably should have been listening to what was Champ was saying but all he could see was how she licked her lips after taking a sip of her cranberry juice.

Statesmen, knowing an ally when they saw one, had purchased a distillery in Scotland. It was the perfect guise to help Kingsman rebuild and keep their money looking “clean.” Yes, he should have listened.

Because the Kid opened his mouth and said Kingsman needed more agents.

“I think Ginger would be a great Kingsman,” Sunny said with a smile.

Ginger, tucked into a corner a drink of her own, smiled in return. “I…”

“Agreed,” Whiskey heard himself saying. And he quickly realized that he meant it. 

Ginger’s eyes went wide and she nearly sloshed the entirety of her drink across her shirt.

Champ laughed. “Alrighty then. Ginger Ale, well, I guess you’ll get a new code name, won’t ya?”

But the Kid’s smile widened. “And I was thinking Cap could come, too.” He turned to her and shrugged a shoulder. “Whaddya say, Cap? I’ll show you the real London.”

Whiskey looked at her, feeling like someone had shoved their fist down his throat. Don’t go. Don’t leave.

“I always wanted to be a knight of the round table.”

The men at the end of the table cheered again and Ginger walked over to knock their glasses together.

And while everyone continued to pat themselves on the back for completing the mission, all he could feel was cold.

The revelry eventually died down and Whiskey found himself the last one seated at the table. Everyone else filtered out to ready for the next mission—or the move to London. It was just him and Champ. The older man plopped down in the seat beside him and refilled his empty glass.

“London is only a few hours by plane from New York.”

He took a long pull from his glass.

“I’ve never known you to wait for something you wanted, Whiskey. But sure seemed to drag your ass on this one.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Champ?” He finally asked after another large gulp of alcohol.

But Champ just shook his head with a throaty chuckle. “You two are a mess.”

                                                     **

Royal weddings were…an event, she was finding.

After nearly losing Princess Tilde to the Golden Circle, Eggsy actually proposed. And with Harry now known as Arthur and presiding over Kingsman, the rules changed. Attachments were allowed. And because Tilde knew his fellow Kingsman were like Eggsy’s family, they were invited to the wedding. A handful of Statesmen, too. It had been a year since Poppy’s demise in Cambodia and the world was (mostly) at peace. Kingsman managed to salvage quite a bit from the wreckage of their former bases and Statesmen funded the rest of their necessary rebuilds. It was slow-going, and a handful of new agents were still finding their footing after graduating from the selection process.

“Please tell me Tequila is not wearing jeans,” she muttered.

Ginger, now known as Agent Percival, rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile as she spotted the jean-clad man amid the rest of the American crowd. “I could but that would be a lie.” She paused. “But Whiskey certainly dressed for the occasion.”

She leaned forward just the slightest bit to see Whiskey dressed in a fine tuxedo. “Is that one of ours?”

Ginger hummed. “He came in a few days ago for a fitting.”

She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth and turned back to watch Eggsy nervously fidget with his cufflinks at the end of the aisle. “Looks good.”

The ceremony finished after the vows and a bit of perfunctory reading and singing before the guests were all chauffeured over to the reception space at the royal palace. “You know, Merlin told me that you and Whiskey are quite fond of using emojis in your emails,” Ginger said as dinner was cleared away and dessert started to be served. 

Her glass of water nearly slipped from her grip as embarrassment washed over her. “I was told those were private.”

“Nothing’s private in our line of work,” Ginger said with a pat to her hand. “But you haven’t really explained what is going on between you two.”

She rubbed at her temples. How could she possibly explain that she knew Whiskey, while his brain was still scrambled, wanted to let everyone infected with the Blue Rash die? How could she explain that she, despite all that, missed his smile and stupid mustache? Missed how he had terrible pick-up lines that always made her roll her eyes? Missed how she always seemed a little lighter whenever he would waltz into her office in New York?

Their constant contact devolved away from work and missions and into their private lives. He would ask after Bela and she would ask him to tell her about the view from his office window. It was now a strange sort of friendship that she treasured and protected despite how they hadn’t seen each other in person in over a year. She had taken the position at Kingsman, took the code name Agent Mordred, moved to London. It should have been a clean break. She could have kept their communications purely professional. But she didn’t. She just couldn’t truly let him go.

But on the outside, she shrugged as her hands dropped away from her face.

“It looks like I’ll be able to see for myself because he’s on his way over here.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Ginger’s smug tone and, sure enough, Whiskey was on his way over, walking through the dancing crowd and wandering guests, right toward their table.

“But oh no. Would you look at that, I need more champagne.” Ginger then scampered off and left her alone.

Whiskey easily took Ginger’s vacated seat and smiled at her. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hey, bos-Whiskey.”

He chuckled at her slip. His head tilted to the side as he looked at her, eyes trailing down her form and she resisted a shiver like a teenaged girl but was silently thankful for the designer dress that fit her like a glove in a soft blue silk. “You look good.”

“You too.” And he did. The tuxedo was impeccably cut and the darkest black. A pristine white shirt was held back with a matching cummerbund and a black bowtie was slightly crooked around his neck. She reached out and straightened it.

He reached up to keep her hand pressed against his chest with a small smile. “I miss you.” It was whispered like a secret.

“We talk every day.” But she didn’t pull her hand away.

“ ‘s not the same and you know it.” He squeezed her hand. “Dance with me?” Wordlessly, he led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her close.

His expensive cologne made her mind swim but she resisted the urge to rest her cheek against his shoulder despite every nerve in her body telling her to do so. The music was slow, soft, and romantic. The lighting was low and accentuated by flickering candles that danced across the golden walls of the royal ballroom. If she could let herself remember anything—it would be this moment. Held in the arms of the man she loved even if it was just for a tiny sliver of time.

“I never thanked you, you know.”

“For what?”

“Saving me. My head was a mess—even before Butterfly Guy put a bullet in it. It took me a while but I…” He shook his head. “You’ve given me a second chance.”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile. “To save the world?”

Whiskey’s smile was small and his cheeks reddened the slightest bit but his dark eyes never left her face. His grip on her hand and waist tightened the slightest bit. “A second chance at everything.”

She chuckled and ignored how her chest tightened. Reading into it would only make it hurt.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​ @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey #kingsman the golden circle

[angelspenance]

Prompt: AruYuki + "Be Around Me" by Will Joseph Cook

I'm around, be around

Come around, be around me

Aru bounces back and forth on the balls of their feet and gnaws on the inside of their lip and runs their hands through their hair and oh fuck they’re nervous. They stand at the end of the hallway Yuki usually passes by before he leaves school with a question in the back of their mind they’ve been meaning to ask for about a week but an important one nonetheless. And finally they recognize his voice saying “fuck sorry sorry sorry” as he stumbles through a particularly dense portion of the crowd and well. Trips into Aru’s arms the second he manages to escape the flow of foot traffic. He opens his mouth as though to say something but the second he realizes it’s none other than Aru with an awkward glance upwards he decides against saying anything. Or perhaps he’s at a loss of words given just how often Aru’s been in the right place at the right time to save Yuki from further embarrassment. Or a pack of dogs but that’s a different caliber than the current situation. “Funny running into you here” they finally remark, breaking the silence between the two. “Yea I could say the same” Yuki answers, voice muffled by their shirt. “You know, not that I’m opposed to it or anything, in fact quite the opposite—“ they bite the inside of their lip and close their eyes at that slip of “aha maybe I’m a little enamored with you” “—but perhaps you personally would like to know that you can exit my embrace at any moment you desire” And Yuki wants to throw something back but the hallways empty now and he remains halfway clinging to Aru, who’s arms are haphazardly draped around his waist. “Yea maybe I don’t want to” a retort but NOT what he was going for he realizes immediately as his face begins to burn in embarrassment. Aru’s heart skips a beat but they still say without thinking “Good to know.” And it’s quiet to the count of ten before Aru reluctantly says “I’ve been meaning to ask you something” with Yuki responding with nothing more than a tired “mhm?” And Aru continues with their heartbeat pounding in their ears “I’d…. Like to spend more time with you. If that’s alright. Just…. I enjoy your presence and am rather fond of you and would like to try the whole ‘being each other’s company’ thing beyond running into each other in the hallway and at the occasional murder scene. Ya know?” And Aru feels their cheeks burning and is glad Yuki’s head is still rested against their chest so he can’t see the extent of their profuse blushing until they remember the fact that he can probably hear their heartbeat going a mile a minute. And Yuki’s silent before finally pulling away, albeit with his hands still placed gently on their shoulders instead of the firm grip they held a second ago. And he’s a bit red in the face as well but there’s a smile ghosting his lips and he finally laughs a little bit before going “I’d like to, I mean good luck running this past Yuno but I uh… would like. To spend time. With you. Aru. My uh…” fuck what WAS Aru to him. Perhaps Hinata and Mao had a clue but Yuki for one couldn’t put it into words for the life of him. Hell, given how Aru gazes affectionately at him with their lips drawn into a tight smile and their mess of hair even more disorderly thanks to Yuki running into them and the way they seem to mull it over every time they decide to initiate any physical contact with him, THEY probably know what they are to Yuki more than Yuki does. “Your…?” They press against their better judgment with a slight chuckle. “My… Aru. My Aru! Yep that’s… exactly what I was looking to say” Yuki sputters out with the realization of just how… romantic for lack of better terms the phrasing on it sounds. “Your Aru huh? Well a title to be proud of I suppose, after all I’ve been gunning for it for a while now” the words escape their mouth without second thought and they close their eyes tightly at the realization of just what they let slip from their lips. “Aru you—?” “Yuki I— well given the revelation of my true feelings I’ll assume you want nothing more to do with me but should you.. well you have my number!”

They remove their hands from Yuki’s waist and take about three steps away before a hand catches their wrist. “Hello Yuki, fancy seeing you around these parts” they say with a smile on their face that’s a bit conflicted but a smile nonetheless given the most recent twist of the conversation. “Don’t think you’re getting out of being my Aru so easily, dumbass” Yuki sighs, looking at his shoes with a blush marring his cheeks. “Ah.” Is all Aru can piece together verbally as their brain puts two and two together. “‘Perhaps I am rather fond of your presence’” he smirks back at them, and they twist their hand to interlock their fingers. Yuki doesn’t resist. “Awful. Genuinely and truly you are awful. I adore that about you” they laugh, turning to face the object of their affections who’s still blushing despite the tight lipped smile and tired look in his eyes. “I could say the same,” he manages to choke out, hand still holding Aru’s.

#*yuki voice* this bitch making several things click in my head 😔 #losers. they’re both losers. they’re also in love with one well aware and the other getting there. ❤️ #asks #anon #writing tag

[boozedcowboy]

The poetry of the ineffable husbands

It’s me ya boi I gotta go to bed in an hour so I’m writing it as fast as I can so I don’t lose my idea tomorrow. 

So, what do I mean by that? Literally what it says. I’m just going to ramble about how beautiful and full of metaphors their relationship is and how it just gives me a reason to live. It’s not going to be good rambling. Just rambling with a little bit of passion in it.

Ight imma start with the classic things. As a former Wattpad loyal user I know all the angel x demon tropes. And I am sick of them to my stomach, I can’t stand one more uwu baby angel corrupted by demon. And this is what is surprising but does make sense about them husbands. They cannot, in my opinion, be called angel or demon, they literally became 2 halves of the same entity, the supernatural entity that watches over humans and makes sure there is a balance between good and bad. Like Yin and Yang. Good and evil, black and white, light and darkness. Not opposing, but complementing each other.

 Aaaand they were like that from the beginning. Remember when Crowley said  "Funny thing is, I keep wondering whether the apple thing wasn’t the right thing to do, as well. A demon can get into real trouble, doing the right thing. Funny if we both got it wrong, eh? Funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad one, eh?". They somehow knew it, Crowley wasn’t evil and Aziraphale wasn’t as obedient as an angel should have been. From the first time they ever got in touch in each other (we do not have any information on the times before Crowley’s fall) they somehow ended up thinking they didn’t do the thing their roles assigned them to. And this just shows how interesting their relationship that would come will be. In their relationship they always ended up stepping on their values that were assigned and for what? For the sake of each other.

Now, I got into the light-darkness thing and I feel the need to extend it. I somewhere saw a theory that angel’s halo’s are so bright that it blinds them, the angels having to rely only on God’s word. Meanwhile, the fallen angels, the demons, had their halo’s broken, forming the shape of the horns, being able to see and think on their own but not having any form of guidance. Now that we uncovered that doesnt a relationship between a demon and an angel just make sense? Like, the angel, blinded by the divine light, would rely on the demon’s words and rationalizing. The demon would then be guided by the angel’s light, this way both benefiting for each other and having to bond to each other. It just makes me so soft to think about that need of each other, and just a silly little thing my brain just said: “the angel could guide the demon through the darkest of times’’ (yes I just quoted my brain deal with it). I am just a succkerrr for this kind of soft thing and many people would probably not empathize and thats okay.

Now the really corny shit. Like the “forbidden love” kind of. This is, again, a well-known trope, but this time one that didn’t lose as much value as others did. When you think “forbidden love” there are so many posibilities. Like... gays during the history, a maiden and a prince, a gay knight and a prince, mafia gang leader harry styles and crime detective, the entire plot of hannibal, drunken me and a laptop to write, hold on I’m going too far, just young people in love and not affording it aaannndd 2 people from opposite sides. Heaven/Hell I mean. Obviously very opposite. And what we have learned about this forbidden love kinda stuff? They almost always end up running away together. Yes I am proving Crowley is head over heels but like, isn’t that poetic as fuck? Being so sick of having to do your work, to hide your feelings, to just hide yourself and the person you would die for that you just want to dull off together and live the perfect life without being judged?

Related to the past point, even if this was an innevitable choice, just the fact that Crowley chose Alpha Centauri is just making my brain and fingers go nuts. Alpha Centauri is a triple star system, 2 of them forming a binary star, basically two stars that are pretty close to each other. Now I know this doesn’t really make any sense, but what if those 2 stars represent Crowley and Aziraphale, and the 3rd one represents Adam? Like in that moment they went during the time before the world was created. I just think it would be cool as fuck that there would actually be an association made.

Also just the ship’s name: Ineffable. What does it mean? Beyond words, beyond understanding. What we always try is to put our feelings into words, and we more than usual fail. Because feelings aren’t something to be shown by words. They are ineffable.

Where did I go with this? Absolutely. No. Idea. I just poured all I my thoughts on a tired keyboard until my fingers have gone cold. It’s just that there are small details or just small ideas that maybe aren’t that revolutionary or special, but why not randomly post them on the internet?

*screeches in happy*

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #snek crowley #ramblings #someone find me that halo broken halo post idk where I saw it #my fingers are legit cold #get thee behing me foul fiend #after you :D #idk that was just an iconic momet

[the-sunshine-dims]

Green

title: green 

words: 2202

ao3 link

pairings: dukeceit (deceit and Remus,)

*warnings*; strong language, sympathetic dark sides , thoughts of abandonment, crying,  mentions of food, hurt/comfort, mentions of burns,

summary: Remus gets accepted my the light sides, deceit is happy for him but sad because he thinks Remus will abandon him. but then Remus comforts him

characters: deceit, Remus, Patton, Virgil, Logan, roman

____________________

Remus somehow unknowingly got accepted to the light sides 

he spends so much time there deceit gives up thinking he’ll see his friend  anymore, at least not as a friend,

deceit gets used to the dinners that Remus isn’t there, well at least he tries, but he never gets used to the silence, that damned emptiness, deceit hated being alone, he never had told anyone but he hates being alone, absolutely hates it!

Remus hadn’t noticed how much time he spends there,

  by the time he goes to hang out with deceit he goes around the corner expecting to see the normal: deceits room with the classic “go away” door matt.

 but now there’s a small sign on the door “please do not come in” scribbled on it lightly

and then he notices that the door is not locked, which is unusual, normally deceit keeps his door locked so Remus would stop running in with a bunch of garbage in hand, 

so Remus of course starts getting worried and did the Remus way of things; opening the door without knocking 

he sees deceit curled up in a little ball next to his bed in his pajamas (w-was he crying?) 

“hey dee-dee! sorry I stopped intruding-”

deceit immediately flinched and tried wiping the endless tears from coming down  when Remus was noticed

“hey dee-dee are you ok?” Remus said genuinely concerned about dee

“ye-yeah i’m fine’ deceit said trying to cover up his tears (and failing)

“… are you sure?” Remus walked closer to the crying deceitful side 

“y-yeah-” deceit couldn’t say another word or he would completely break down (more then he already has)

“dee… I can tell when something wrong! that’s a little bit of my job after all!” 

deceit flinched at that, deciding it was better not to respond

“dee… can I hug you?” 

deceit was a little surprised that Remus had asked he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad all he knew was that it was all influenced by the light sides… it didn’t matter what his brain was saying he nodded slowly

Remus didn’t hesitate for a second to wrap his arms around deceit in a oddly soft embrace, Remus grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around them for extra comfort

“hey dee-dee… you don’t have to but can you tell me why you were crying? the last time you cried was when Virgil left… again you don’t have to tell me!” Remus said hesitantly trying to connect the dots (and somewhat failing)

deceit hesitantly muttered something  before speaking a little louder for Remus to actually hear “I- I was- I thought you were ganna le-leave-’” deceit got out before letting out a sob

 Remus was startled by that (Remus startled?? yes.) Remus held the crying snakey side closer

“shh its ok… shhh i wont leave..i would never leave you like Virgil did… its ok shh” Remus shushed comfortingly as he began crying a little too, he wasn’t expecting any of this.. honestly he just wanted to hold deceit protectively forever

after about a half hour deceit fell asleep quietly in a comforting embrace (#letthesnakesleep)

“aww he fell asleep! its better then crying more… I don’t want him to cry…” Remus said tilting his head on deceit’s head gently

he was happy deceit had gotten sleep and Remus just noticed that deceit had eye bags,

 Remus realized he hadn’t seen deceit in a while… he was ganna change that, if he had gotten excepted by the “light” sides then he would bring deceit with him! deceit deserves to be listened to, if they would listen to Remus they would listen to deceit.

after about another half hour Remus had also fallen asleep —— Patton had decided it was a good idea to allow Remus to be a more active member of the famILY 

the others hadn’t really opposed to it but they could tell Virgil wasn’t the most thrilled, and roman got fed up with Remus easily (brothers ya know)

but Virgil knew Remus didn’t really wanna actually hurt anyone and roman just didn’t really care as long as Remus didn’t touch his sword 

so Patton invited Remus for dinner, again, and again, and again, until Remus kind of came on instinct ______ Patton didn’t know why but he felt on edge, Patton knew he was missing something but he couldn’t tell what it was, Patton knew he was missing something! it made Patton a little mad he couldn’t figure out what he was missing

then around dinner Remus doesn’t show up, and that’s all it took to worry Patton.

Remus was gone, they looked everywhere even his (very messy) room, they still couldn’t find him

it wasn’t until Virgil decided that it would be a good idea to check deceits room or at least ask him if he had seen Remus recently or knew where he is

when Virgil knocked and didn’t get an answer Virgil got more worried he already was, Virgil turned the door nob seeing if it was locked it wasn’t, so Virgil finally hesitantly opened the door

he saw the two wrapped around each other absorbing each others warmth

“hey pat Remus is fine!” Virgil yelled after closing the door

“hmm! did you find him!? did deceit know where he was?” Patton asked quickly walking over to Virgil

“well deceit definitely knows where he is, but deceit didn’t tell me…  cuddle puddle.”

Patton made a small happy lil gasp “aww!! so we should leave them be! we can talk or hang out with Remus later! maybe we can hang out with deceit too,”

Virgil chuckled “ok pat lets go tell the others- Roman. not to destroy the mindscape looking for him”

——-

Remus woke up quietly a couple hours before deceit but didn’t want to wake him up or leave him alone so he just stayed there quietly cuddling closer letting deceit absorb his warmth

when deceit woke up he noticed the still lingering Remus around him 

“m’  sorry…” deceit muttered close to tears again, unknowing Remus was actually awake, he felt awful, ‘what if he had just ruined Remus’s chance at finally being listened to?’ his mind said

Remus wrapped his arms tighter around deceit 

Remus tilted deceits head to face him, “you don’t need to apologize… I mean I don’t apologize even when I do something wrong most of the time and you didn’t even do anything wrong!’ Remus laughed softly, trying

to make sure deceit knew  everything is ok

Remus wondered how long deceit had been crying before Remus came in, ‘how long has he thought I was ganna leave him completely? how long has he thought he would be completely alone?’ Remus thought

“thanks…… can- can we have more blankets? I want comfy!” deceit smiled wetly

Remus laughed “sure, but lets go to the kitchen first so you can eat,”

“ok” deceit smiled

Remus picked up deceit surprisingly deceit didn’t squirm or protest “now lets go!” Remus smiled as deceit quickly grabbed the blanket from the ground and readjusted himself a bit so he wouldn’t be cold,

Remus wandered into the kitchen deceit In his arms

he sat deceit on the couch 

“hey! I can help make the food! I-” deceit said 

“nope, you should be resting you have bags under your eyes, and since I don’t know the last time you’ve slept~ just sit tight, okay?” 

deceit decided not to argue, he let out a sigh “fine, but~ later we have to make cupcakes,”

Remus let out a loud a laugh “deal, it also says a lot that you’re to tired to lie,” Remus ruffled deceits hair causing deceit to blep 

“… fair… also no hair squish!” deceit swatted at Remus’s hands,

Remus laughed “ok sir blep-noodle! now i’m ganna go make pancakes,” and with that he walked into the kitchen.

deceit grabbed the remote, turning on a show, just so he had something to pay attention to, to pass he time —————- after about an hour or so, (deceit wasn’t paying attention to the time) Remus came back with two plates of pancakes,

“dee-dee! I got the food! and I only got burnt twice!” Remus beamed at deceit before handing deceit the plate

deceit gave a airy chuckle “thank you, and i’m proud your getting better at cooking but I think we should get that number of burns down to zero.”

Remus laughed “ok. now eat you sleep deprived snake, and then after we eat we can watch movies! though tomorrow we have to find a solution the- uhhh- thing? because we cant have you being sad or lonely!”

Remus smiled dee

deceit sighed “okay” then they both began eating

—————–

 a while later (no one was keeping track of the time) they turned on a couple movies and cuddled until deceit fell asleep, using Remus as a pillow,

 —————–

 when they woke up they ate and watched a couple more movies.

 Remus paused the movie and looked over at the side latched onto Remus’s arm “hey dee-dee should we go to the light sides and try to solve the problem soon?”

 deceit looked at Remus and gave a contemplative look, “hmm I guess so, do you mean right now or-? because if its right now I have to change out of my pajamas”

 Remus laughed “nah, not right now, we’ll go chat with them when ever you feel like you can, talking can be hard when your tired.” 

deceit nodded “okay, well i’m not as tired as I was a couple days ago so I think I’ll be fine,” deceit smiled at Remus and Remus smiled back

“ok so are you fine with going now?”

“sure but-”

Remus stood up and swooped down to pick up dee

“lets go!”

deceit laughed “Remus- pfft- no we have to change!” deceit giggled

 “if they say anything bad about your snake pj’s then I’ll fight them!” Remus laughed maniacally causing deceit to burst into a fit of giggles

Remus beamed at the giggling deceit, he began running to the light sides area 

“Remus- no-”

“Remus yes, owo”

deceit laughed again

“Remus-“ deceit laughed again  "actually, this probably isn’t the weirdest thing they’ve seen, they have Virgil, Virgil goes to bed at 4 am and if you got to the kitchen at 3 you see him sitting on the fridge.”

this caused Remus to laugh  “yep!” 

Remus burst into the light side living room with deceit in his arms

“what up bitches?!” Remus yelled with a laugh

Patton yelped “oh- hi Remus! hi deceit!” Patton said deciding not to mention the fact about them being in their pj’s

roman on the other hand- “why are you in your pajamas? did Remus wake you up and bring you here?”

deceit stared at Remus “that wasn’t anything bad about the pj’s, no fighting.”

Remus laughed “fine~”

Patton, Virgil, and roman looked at each other confused

“have you two eaten?” Logan asked

“oh don’t worry Logan! I made sure he ate!” Remus said happily

“good, deceit i’m guessing the reason you’re in your pajamas is because of Remus?” Logan continued

deceit giggled “no, he didn’t pick me up off the couch and run me over here”

“oh don’t act like you don’t like being carried” Remus chuckled

deceit hissed and Remus booped his snoot causing deceit to blep again 

“noo! I am powerful fear me! I am an agent of chaos!” deceit squeaked 

the two abrupted into fits of giggles 

Patton beamed a smile at the two giggly bois

deceit remembered people were there. his face turned bright red and he hid his face in Remus’s shirt with the logic of ‘if I cant see them they cant see me’

and deceit stayed there for about a half hour while Remus talked to the other sides, and deceit just absorbed Remus’s warmth, ignoring the outside worlds existence 

and then deceit heard a muffled Remus asking “if I can join the light sides then can he? I don’t want him to be alone,” deceit tensed

“I mean, you’ve talked about him, and pretty much confirmed that he doesn’t wish Thomas harm, plus he doesn’t deserve to be abandoned. so yeah he can be a light side,” said a more serious sounding Patton 

Remus smiled

deceit readjusted himself “hey Remus can you set me down? its getting uncomfortable, plus I wanna go get a hoodie, its cold.” deceit whispered to Remus

Remus nodded and set him down to the confusion of the others, deceit walked off

“is he coming back or-?” Roman asked

Remus shrugged “depends if he finds a hoodie or he finds a warm place to huddle in,” 

“does he usually wander off to find warmth?” Logan asked

“eh sometimes, though when  its winter I go with him! he’s a cold danger noodle!” Remus laughed 

they continued to talk for a while before Remus left

————–

“i’m pretty sure we’ll need more blankets,” roman laughed “first because I want to make pillow forts and second because cold snake,” 

Patton smiled “agreed” 

“am I the only one who has the feeling that we’ll randomly find deceit in a pile of blankets in the middle of the floor?” Logan asked

Virgil laughed at that “oh that’s definitely ganna happen.”

————–

end

#dukeceit #trashnoodle #deceit x remus #sander sides #sanders sides #the cold one writes #random shit hour #sandersides #deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fan fic

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

I saw that you do headcanons now. What are some kinky headcanons you have for Jask? I’d really like to know. I absolutely love your fics that delve into the d/s stuff. They’re brilliant and so well done.

Ooh good question! I’m borrowing this alphabet format from Joz in an attempt to be thorough

Disclaimer: these are just my headcanons, my opinions, they do not reflect the fandom at large or canon

 A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Caring and nurturing. He provides some form of aftercare after sex even if it wasn’t kink related at all, making sure they’re cleaned up and comfortable. Most of his partners haven’t been ones where they or he could spend the night but he still tries to make sure he leaves them satisfied in every way. I think he’s very tender in general and if he isn’t too tired out he pens some notes down for his next song.

B -Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I mean, listen, if he doesn’t really enjoy his chest and its abundance of hair he has a funny way of coping with insecurity so I’m gonna say he likes it. I think his favorite part of his partner changes with the partner (he enjoys finding little unique things about each person whether it’s freckles or an interesting birthmark or scar etc.) but I see him being a fan of a nice ass and a pretty mouth on any gender.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He tries not to come inside of his partners for obvious pregnancy reasons with uterus-possessing partners and also because it feels too intimate for his casual dalliances (even though yes he loves them he also feels that’s just not really a thing you do unless that is Your Person). He likes to finish on his partner both to spare the sheets (easy cleanup and easier to hide from jealous husbands) and because he does like how his partner looks when they’re panting, covered in sweat and come. He swallows.

D - Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

On one very memorable day he slept with both a person and their parent in the same 24-hour period. Separate, not together (ew) and neither party ever found out and he intends to keep it that way

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Jaskier is sufficiently experienced but always eager to get more practice in. He is very adept at pleasing many different bodies but that doesn’t make him cocky. He sees each partner as a new experience and doesn’t assume he knows how to please them just because he’s pleased others. This is one of the reasons he is such a very good partner.

F - Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Strongly swayed by what his partner likes but I see him enjoying the humble missionary position. Not as kinky as people may expect but he likes the intimacy and the ability to look into his partner’s eyes.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He weaves between the two. He knows that sex is a dialogue and he follows it as it goes, staring deeply into someone’s eyes one moment and giggling with them in the next.

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

As I said, Jaskier really enjoys intimacy. He likes to focus on his partner and get lost in the feeling without thinking about consequences (hence the courtly reputation)

J- Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don’t picture him doing this much. He’s on the road a lot and Geralt has that damned witcher hearing. Also I think Jaskier enjoys another person’s body more than his hand and he is cocky enough to know that he can get that companionship if he wants it. He has been known to enjoy mutual masturbation.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

While Jaskier is a romantic I think he also enjoys being dominant. Those two things are opposing roles by any means but I guess I’m just saying it’s not all rose petals and it’s also leather paddles ya feel?

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He enjoys getting to do it in a bed because I think usually he just gets what he gets where he gets it (again thinking of jealous husbands/courtly reputation) but he also enjoys getting creative. It’s like a brain puzzle. We’re in this barn and I Must Have You and sure we could do it on the ground but what if we stacked those haybales just so…

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A stiff breeze?

But actually, I think Jaskier gets really turned on by competence. A person can be lovely but if they’re lovely AND adept at something (even something not having anything whatsoever to do with sex) he really likes that. And the show off in him goes “well let me show you what I do!” Also wit. He trades in words and enjoys some banter.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)                                 

I don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t do. I don’t see him being into degradation with his partners, giving or receiving. I also think he is decidedly against knife play after the Djinncident

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Jaskier loves to go down on his partners. It’s an understood thing that it will be a part of sex unless his partner doesn’t want it. He also really enjoys receiving but I think giving just edges it out in preference

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

All over the board. Usually sex with Jaskier is going to go through a few speeds unless pressed for time or intentionally stretching things out to tease his partner.

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Jaskier is the undisputed master of the quickie thanks to experience but he prefers to take his time.

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Absotively Posilutely

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I think he has decent stamina and if he has the time to go more than one round during the refractory period he’s still doing something with/to his partner even if it’s just a massage or making out

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Slipping into Modern!AU here because of course they had toys back in the day but I’m horrified at even the potential concept of splinters There. Yes, Jaskier enjoys toys and uses them on himself and on his partner and has toys his partners use on him (I’m talkin’ ‘bout the strap, lads). He invests a decent amount in quality toys and has a good sampling, some for more special occasions and some used regularly. He has some toys that are like his staple ingredients he will make sure to stock back up on when it dies (a good clitoral stimulating vibrator, for example). Also he has strong opinions about what you do and do not use to tie people up. You do not use handcuffs which can cause actual damage. Instead you use bondage tape or rope designed for it. Perhaps a tie, though that’s still not ideal.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So Very Much

He is a cheeky little bastard and he loves to make you beg for it

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I think Jaskier is quiet, mostly whispering and muttering under his breath through most of it (again, somewhat learned through necessity) but he can be provoked to be louder if someone really works at it and he feels safe

W - Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Jaskier never asks his partner to do something he wouldn’t do and he won’t do anything to them that he wouldn’t want them to do to him in return unless they have a specific fetish he isn’t about but is willing to engage with

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Maybe a controversial opinion but I think our boy is a bit of a sex drive camel. He goes decent stretches sometimes without having much opportunity for it and I think he can be sustained for a bit after a really good night. He would prefer to do it more often but it’s not something that drives him to distraction, if that makes sense.

Z - ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think Jaskier stays awake until his partner falls asleep, or at least tries to just in case they need something.

#Anonymous #Jaskier Headcanons #Jaskier Kink Headcanons Pt II #reader request

[nagitosasshole]

China oneshot comin through, yall!! ! (Ty @kingkinberlyn for proofreading this for me qwq)

My eyebrows knit together in frustration, fuzzy material squeezed tightly between my fingers.

Seriously, again?

I sigh as I sit the sizable panda plush on the washer. It still smells like hot tires, and...... Even hotter...ass.

“Its okay, its okay, just another run through the wash will help him... Hopefully,“ I mutter unbeknownst to no ear other than my own and my plush friends, “No problem, just one more time will work, third times the charm, right? Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

I understand the inevitability of this as it’s become almost routine, but it’s irritating nonetheless.

I put my black and white buddy back into his watery tomb, “Bye bye, buddy,” I give a bitty, uncharismatic wave towards the washer, “See ya when the times up.”

Did I just send my friend off to his untimely demise again? No, wait... Did I just talk to my panda plushie?

Ugh, I need friends.

"你好 (hello?),” a voice with a heavy accent bellowed through the store, but, your brain being too slow and fried, you had a hard time discerning the language. It sounded very familiar, though.

"Huh?,” you clumsily spouted, looking over both shoulders to spot the intruder, “Hello? I’m over here!” You tried to recover as quickly as you could, though, you found yourself still embarrassed. You stood up from the box in front of a shelf you were stocking and began to seek out the invading culprit. Being the only one here is amazing for the peace of mind; but when people want to, say, actually shop, it kind of sucks ass.

You heard a chuckle. A... cute one. "到目前為止您的工作進展如何 (how has your work been going so far, panda?)” Yao, your dear friend, finished with a bright smile.

"Whoa there,” you countered with a chuckle of your own, “I’m still learning, bro. I only know so much." You finished, puffing out your cheeks that had become decorated in a pink flush. You playfully punched him in the chest and arms as you both began to laugh.

"Gotta keep you on your toes, Aru," he looks you in the eyes, smile softening, as did his laughter. "I’m always here to help you learn, Aru."

Your eyes widened, face adopting a bright, embarrassing flush, "Of course, I know that.” You looked him deeply in the eyes, “Aru." you remarked playfully.

Yao started giggling. He’s adorable and all, but sometimes, he sounds like a schoolgirl. You joined your friend, laughing more at him as opposed to with him. You both share a wholesome laugh together; the moment feeling somewhat intimate when Yao starts to lightly lean on you as he’s chuckling, making your face redden all the more... He kind of has a talent for making that happen. Ya know, if you couldn't see that already.

You awkwardly cleared your throat in hopes of changing the course of the conversation. Standing up straight while mocking confidence, you speak in an unconvincing authoritarian voice, "姚先生，我必须回到备货Hello Kitty商品. (Sir Yao, I must get back to stocking Hello Kitty merchandise.)” You punctuate your sentence with a deep bow, to Yao’s surprise.

His eyes widened, practically shining with delight, “Hello Kitty?!"

"Are you kiddin' me?! That Chinese was good, right?” You gloated as you waited for the inevitable praise your friend would give you. “Yaaoooo, I cant believe this!” You huffed out jokingly, pushing him off of you to make your way to the freight box that previously held your attention. You squat down picking up a lone packaged figurine, your eyes trail to yoa's face, looking expectantly, “Well?"

Yao looked to the side, feigning muse, "Eh..."

Gasping as you shot up, you shouted at Yao, “You!" You began stomping in his direction.

"It was good!” Yao raised his hands on either side of his head, surrendering before you, “You've gotten a lot better, Aru."

He cackled as you started to playfully pummel him. You giggled softly as your attention turned back to the box. You pushed a few baby hairs behind your ear, blush softening into a pastel, while still being prevalent.

"白痴... (idiot...),” you whispered to yourself, to being able to to hide the smile spanning your lips.

#aph china #hetalia china #hetalia x reader #oneshot #short and shitty thing i just threw together tbh #ofc google translate #aph china x reader #hetalia china x reader #reader insert #x reader #china #yao wang

[nad-zeta]

Matchup ^3^

Hello! I had a lot of fun reading your works and was wondering if I can have an Ikesen match up of my own?

Essentially, I am rather laidback ENFP who can get along with most people. I’m very honest with my feelings - or rather, I can’t school my face and hide my emotions or my thoughts. I feel happy just by being around people whom I vibe with and whilst I may seem happy most of the times, I also have little patience for discourtesy and incompetence. I will confront if needed. I read a lot of random things hahaha and love to engage in societal/political discourse with my friends!

Aah thank you for reading!!!

Awwww thanx so much love! And thanx for the request dear! I hope i didn't make ya wait tooooooo long ^_^ Hope you enjoy it, love ^0^ And i hope u have a good day!

Soooo I match you with..................... Nobunaga

The first time Nobunaga sees you he is hella intrigued. He has never met anyone with such an expressive face. He could legit watch every thought flicker across your face all day. He is even more intrigued when you blurt out every single thought that pops in your head. He can't help but give you an amused smirk as he names you the new princess of the oda forces. He was even more amused with your calm, cool, laid back nature. It seemed like absolutely nothing could phase you, not even Hideyoshi who now had his sword at your throat. Like you, legit just look up at him and roll your eyes “What do you think you are doing, put that sword away before you freaken hurt yourself”. He is shook, all he can think to do is look at you dumbfounded. Nobunaga just laughs at the whole affair and continues with the council

You are a super cheerful, happy go lucky kinda person, and you just have this way about you that lifts everyone's spirits when you walk in the room. All the castle staff absolutely adore you and love to work with you, as you make the most horrendous task fun and light-hearted. Although there is one particular group of young maids that seems to have a problem with you. You can hear them gossiping and snickering behind your back 24/7. What these maids don’t know about you, is that even though you are chilled and friendly, doesn’t mean you don’t know how to stand up for yourself. The final straw was one day after they had replaced your clean soapy water with a bucket of mud midway through your cleaning of the floors. The second you dipped your hand into the sludge water and scrubbed the floor you knew exactly who was responsible. You finished your task and made your way to the break room, where the three young maids were snickering at the success of their prank. You stormed up to them and very formally scolded them and put them in their place. You knew something was off by the way they were smirking, that is when you heard a thunderous voice behind you “Is there a problem?” The maids instantly started crying, accusing you of just attacking them out of nowhere. You were furious, you never had in your life met people so petty before. Ruby eyes stared at you curiously, Nobunaga grabbed your hand and silently lead you up to his room. You looked back at the maids who were now wearing the most devious smiles, one even whispered to you in the passing “Good riddance”.

Nobunaga made his way to sit down behind his writing desk gesturing you to take a seat opposite him. You honestly weren’t sure what to expect. He looked up at you curiously, and you couldn't help but blush. Since day one you found yourself attracted to the handsome man, your face must have given you away cause Nobunaga legit burst out laughing. He made the two of you tea and asked you about the young maids. You had stated all the facts, as you weren’t the type of person to carry stories or throw people under the bus. He nodded. He was intrigued by your diplomatic way of speaking, he also noted that you handled and talked to the maids a similar way to which he would have handled it, removing feeling and merely stating facts. As the two of you continued to sip on tea and talk, Nobunaga discovered that you loved to engage in talks of politics and social issues. Both of you had a few opposing views on certain issues; however, he keenly listened to your opinions with an open mind. 

Since that day, the two of you would often have tea together and engage in societal/political discourse. You opened up a whole new perspective and point of view on things he otherwise would never have considered, and you learned a lot about this time and the way things are run and done. Nobunaga couldn't help but take a big liking to you and found himself slowly falling in love.

The day your relationship changed from friendship to relationship was after one of the long-ass boring war councils. You had been working so hard lately, and haven’t been getting much sleep. You had just finished your duties for the day when you were summoned to attend war council. You took your usual seat in the back, you enjoyed the warmth of the sun shining through the large window onto your back. Between the warmth of the sun and Nobunaga's smooth, soothing voice talking about who knows what, you found yourself starting to get tired. You decided you were simply going to close and rest your eyes for a few seconds. Nobunaga couldn’t help but smile at his fireball who seems to have been lulled to sleep in an upright sitting position. His gaze lingered a moment too long as all eyes were now on your peaceful sleeping face. “My lord, would you like me to take her up to her room?” “No, leave her be, Hideyoshi, let's continue.”. Once the council was over the warlords, all exited swiftly and quietly as not to wake the sleeping princess.

Nobunaga went back to his room, but his mind constantly drifted to the sleeping fireball in the council room. He had been staring at the same document now for 20min and was also starting to feel the strain of a long weeks work. He found himself drifting to the council room, you looked so warm and cosy, sleeping in the sun. He couldn't help himself, he rested his head on your thigh and found himself drifting off to sleep. You woke up to a heavyweight on your leg, you looked down to see the cause being Nobunaga himself. 

You couldn't help yourself. You had always wanted to feel his hair, it always looked so soft, you pulled your fingers through the raven strands. You go a fright when you saw two carmine eyes open and stare right at you. Nobunaga was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes to find the source of the wonderful and warm sensation playing with his hair. He, without thinking, put his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you down so that your lips would meet his in a kiss. It was a deep kiss filled with passion and untold emotions of love. Midway through the kiss, he realized what he was doing, he had low key thought it was a dream, but when you returned the kiss, his heart melted on the spot. When the two of you pulled away, you couldn't help but smile at the tinge of red on Nobunaga's cheeks. You got to see a side of Nobunaga that no one has ever seen, an unguarded, sweet, soft and sensitive side.

Of course, that sweet side was only reserved for his dearest fireball. You had managed to conquer this sweet bois heart. He loves you to the moon and back, you were his everything, his queen, his life and his equal. You were the only one with whom he could let his guard down. The two of you cuties can often be found engaged in some or other political debate which usually ends in Nobunaga winning, cause that damn boi turns your brain to mush every time he kisses you. He loves to spend time with you and will often goof of work to take the two of you on some kind of nice romantic trip, where the two of you can snuggle and cuddle to your heart's content without being interrupted by some or other vassel bringing Nobunaga more work to do. His favourite thing in the world is to rest his head in your lap while you lovingly pull your fingers through his hair.

Other potential matches................Shingen 

Hope you enjoyed it love!❤❤ @pimptri

#oda nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #nobunaga matchup #submission

[packsbeforesnacks]

Unbreakable Oaths || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Monday, May 25th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: The Outskirts PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: RIP Blanche Harlow, 1999-2020 WARNINGS: None.

Winn was lying on his back, in a small clearing in the woods near his home, sunlight casting shadows from the trees and onto his body. Meditation, all the latest psychological research showed, was effective in helping lessen symptoms of depression and anxiety in some patients. He wondered if the same was true for wolves. His stress levels, and his temper, were well-managed things. The easy-going, affable version of himself that he presented to the world — that was him. So, then, why, with Salva, had he…? Had he thought he could... kill. Winn didn’t have answers, none he liked. What he did have was standing plans with Blanche to spend part of Memorial Day “training.” Blanche needed to see a werewolf, up close, to see the shift, to see the movements of his body, to get a real sense for what she could be dealing with. She wasn’t a Hunter, not by a long shot, but every scrap of information she took in could prove useful if she ever found herself facing down the maw of another wolf. The best way, Winn figured, was the old-fashioned way, mock-fighting against him safely. So Winn needed, for both of their sakes, to be safe, to be calm. He’d already lined this up with his powers at their lowest. But, more than some, Winn knew things could go wrong in an instant. As Blanche approved, his ears perked up. But he didn’t rise. Not yet.

What a way to spend a part of Memorial Day. Blanche almost canceled on Winn. She almost told him that it was a bad idea, that she shouldn’t be trying to fight him off, that it was dangerous… But it was Winn, and she had seen Ariana shift at the beach to fight off that damn lobster. Honestly, it would be nice to blow off some steam. With Bea’s death, with Nell… Blanche had parked her car outside of Winn’s house, before hiking to the small clearing where Winn told her to meet him. Exhaustion clung to her, and she knew she would spend the better part of the night looking for any sign that Bea’s soul decided to stick around. There was nothing so far. And that was probably the most frustrating. Blanche squinted, coming through the trees as she concealed a yawn. “Winn,” Blanche called. Her tone was flatter than normal, and Blanche almost winced, trying to make her next words sound more enthusiastic. “What gives? Are we going to take a nap?” Actually, a nap didn’t sound bad.

The first thing that Winn noticed about Blanche was that she looked… tired. Guilt panged in his heart. He knew things with Adrien had been bad, but they’d talked about that, so… What new horror had this fuckin’ town decided to pull on Blanche? Winn stood, stretching out his still-human body and rolling his neck. Whatever had happened, he knew she’d open up slowly, so he went for the obvious ribbing: “You look like you need a nap, B. Hope you’re ready to get movin’! This ain’t your mama’s gym class.” Winn hesitated, a half-smile frozen on his face, considering… Safe. This was supposed to be safe. But… Would Blanche had even come if she wasn’t ready to do this? Probably not; they’d never had a problem cancelling this little dance party before, one thing or another popping up and throwing a wrench in their weekends. “I was takin’ a little doze in the sunlight, gotta get my beauty rest, after all.” He let the half-smile turn to a full one. “Alright, so, I’m gonna start you off… simple. Let you get acquainted with the wolf, sorry in advance for the sniffin’. Then, when you’re ready, we can move on to you tryin’ to land a blow on me, while I’m movin’... After that, well, maybe I’ll try to trip you up or somethin’, but I don’t want my claws anywhere near ya, dude, and neither do you. Just watch me and everything’ll go smoothly.” Hopefully.

“Watch it, my mom goes to jazzercise, and those bitches are mean,” Blanche responded automatically. She rolled her shoulders back, feeling them pop and ache. She’d been sleeping in Nell’s greenhouse for way too long, with what little sleep she was getting anyway. Blanche took a look at him a moment, considering. “You sure you don’t need a few more minutes in the sunlight for that beauty rest?” Blanche said. She was trying. At least she was trying. She needed to do something. Maybe this wasn’t it, but as Winn beamed at her, she wasn’t sure she could say no. It would be fine. “Good thing I showered before I came. You’re going to sniff me?” Blanche asked, raising an eyebrow at him, mildly amused at the thought. But she nodded. “Yeah, I saw one of you guys shift at the beach the other day when a karkinoid got a little too close to comfort. Don’t worry, I’m prepared.” Blanche would be lying if she said she wasn’t ready to watch Winn like a hawk. She had been a little too hypervigilant these days anyway. She doubted she’d even be able to land a real hit. What was she going to do? Kick him?

“Jazzercise,” Winn said, cocking an eyebrow at Blanche’s easy mention of her mother. Odd. File that away for a later conversation, if it actually meant anything. “Pretty sure some of the PTA moms go there, so, like mean bitches is, uh, accurate.” He shuddered, as per usual, at the thought of those women. It wasn’t that they were, like, the worst. Just the worst thing he had to routinely deal with. One good thing ‘bout the summer. “And, like, the sniffin’ just… happens, okay? Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s a wolf thing.” Speaking of wolf things… “Wait, who’d you meet on the beach? I might know ‘em. Don’t know all the wolves in town, but it don’t hurt for me to know more.” Instead of waiting for Blanche’s answer, he turned his back to her and let the shift come on. Closer to the new Moon, Winn felt the ache of it more. The ways in which his body was growing, adjusting to the beast within him. He stared at Blanche when he was done, waiting patiently for her to make the first move.

And there was the wince when Winn mentioned the PTA. Her mom was a PTA mother. Probably a bad thing to joke about, but she wasn’t wrong. The PTA moms were mean. Her stomach twisted a moment when she thought of Linda Quinn, the other star mother, and she had to shake it off. Maybe, Blanche decided as she remembered the horrible things Rio had shown her, all PTA mothers were evil. She sucked in a deep breath, and tried to focus on what Winn was saying. “I think you just like my scented body wash,” Blanche folded her arms over her chest, grinning. Oh, wait, she could tell Winn who she met. “Yeah, you do know her. It’s Arian—ah.” Blanche trailed off as Winn shifted. Well. There it was. She took an automatic step back as her eyes narrowed. Winn was less likely to attack her, but Blanche couldn’t believe Winn wanted her to just waltz up to him and punch him in the snout. And she sort of felt a little ridiculous. This felt a little ridiculous! Kaden and Adam would have simultaneous strokes if they knew they were doing this. That was fine by her, she supposed. “Okay…” Blanche said, slowly, “I’m going to try to hit you now.” It was fine. They didn’t have to find out. On the balls of her feet, Blanche jerked forward and really did try to punch Winn in his werewolf face.

Aaaand a miss. Winn hadn’t been expecting to take it on the snout, not with Blanche’s first punch anyway, but… well, he might have more work to do here than he thought. The wolf was front and center — calm, but mostly because it didn’t sense any threat from Blanche… at all. C’mon, brain, give her more credit than that. Maybe they should’ve started in human form? Get Blanche comfortable punchin’ Winn’s face before askin’ her to aim at the beast. But, well. They were here now, and Winn wasn’t gonna change back until he could get back to his house and tell B to cover her eyes. There were just things that you didn’t want your more-or-less-sister-figure to see. Okay. He’d stay… still. He wouldn’t move. He’d just let him hit her. It literally wouldn’t hurt. The wolf grumbled, unhappy with even being hit at all, but Winn powered through. He approached Blanche, slowly, so slowly. There was no way she could miss.

This was a goddamn waste of time. Blanche realized that as soon as they started. She wasn’t opposed to kicking the crap out of something, but this wasn’t it. She was too tired to be trying to punch a werewolf in the face. She wasn’t a hunter, this wasn’t her job. Why did she need to be prepared if something attacked her in the first place? She would just die, and then it would be over. Isn't that what happened to Bea and Nell? Nell walked away from it traumatized, but Bea was headless and stuck in some fucking freezer somewhere. Bea, who couldn’t be bothered to show up to her own fucking summoning. They continued for a while, back and forth, Blanche slipping each time before she finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Alright! Enough! I’m done!” Blanche snapped, frustration finally built up enough to snap, holding up her hands and then running them down her face, muffling her next words: “I’m just going to go home.”

To say that this was going… poorly was an understatement. It was clear that Blanche was more tired than she let on. Winn should’ve stopped, but his wolf-brain was in the driver’s seat. And the wolf wanted exercise. At its best, this was play-fighting, something that the two of them could look back on and laugh when Blanche eventually kicked his ass. When he had a player who just wasn’t getting it, there were two options: keep pushing or back off. So, he kept coming at her, and she kept missing. By the time she raised her hands in defeat, Winn was just about ready to let her throw in the towel. Had she kept her damn hands outta her eyes, he probably woulda. But that was fuckin’ dangerous and Blanche needed to— He couldn’t let her— This was safe. He was safe. But real life was fuckin’ dangerous, and if she was hell-bent on gettin’ into messes and putting herself at risk, then she needed to be prepared. All of this was in the back of his mind as he ran at her again, loud, loud thuds on the ground as he bounded up to Blanche, paws up in an obvious “Gotcha!” and a toothy smile on his maw. He’d just give her a little scare, and then they’d stop and come back at it again.

Winn scared the shit out of her. Blanche had just said she was done and was going to stop, but the next thing she knew was there was a wolf running at her, teeth bared. She panicked, scrambling backward, and screamed long and loud as she shoved her hands out in front of her as blood pounded in her ears. Like others before, Winn was thrown away from Blanche. The familiar energy under her skin burst from her as her adrenaline laced fear shoved Winn away from her. Blanche scrambled back, eyes wide as she watched Winn connect with a tree. Shit. Was he fucking stupid?! She said she wanted to stop! “Winn!” Blanche snapped, but things didn’t feel right. Like she had just lifted something that was far too heavy and carried it anyway. She staggered. “Shit—”

Winn remembered the force hitting him, his back connecting with a tree, and then—

The wolf crumpled to the ground, a low growl buried in the back of its throat, coming out slow and dangerous. Pain, like it had fallen down a mountain. Nothing was broken, it would be fine. But it would not underestimate this human again. It snarled, teeth bared, hackles raised, as it rose from the ground, eyes finding the human and narrowing. The human shouted something foreign to it, something in its own language, crude and loud. The wolf gnashed at the air, the tiniest of warnings. The Moon would come, soon, and it would stain the earth with blood as it bit. It always savored the snap of bone, the chase that it would give the human through the forest, its home territory. The wolf howled, rage bounding into the air, an offering to the sky. And then, it ran at the human. Nothing would stop it from its prey.

The only thing that Blanche could think of were Lauren Langley’s insides pouring out of her as she showed Blanche her true form. Werewolf attack. Kaden’s mother and father were mauled by werewolves. Blanche didn’t exactly register what was happening as she froze, eyes wide as Winn’s snarling face came crashing towards her. Blanche had never seen Winn like that — she had never been in this position. She was rooted straight down into the ground. She couldn’t even scream. She couldn’t move. Move you idiot, try to run! If she was going to die, why the hell was she going to die standing there like an idiot. She wasn’t going to be like all the other fucking stupid people in this town that just died. Inky black spots appeared in her vision and her knees hit the grass first as her entire body crumbled, arms going to cover her head.

Why was it not running? The wolf watched, almost in slow motion, as the human crumpled to the ground, far enough away from the thing that it had had plenty of time to run away from the wolf. Run! said a voice, in that crude tongue. But, as the wolf came upon the human, raised its claws to rend its flesh from its bones, it found it could not. The heartbeat was— A growl, now, but not from its own gut. But from its own throat? No. No, this would not do. It brought its claw down—

— and Winn stopped himself, coming back to his senses. His vision was blurry, his senses scattered to the winds. Fuck. What the fuck. He’d known Blanche could throw him, rationally, but to be actually thrown. It was awful, wild. It had pushed him to an edge, an edge he almost didn’t back away from. He had to… He had to go, to get away. What if he fucked up, what if he hadn’t been able to stop the wolf? Blanche was... It was safer, for her, if he left. He couldn’t be trusted, with a human life. Why the fuck had he thought he’d be safe for Blanche to fight? Stupid, idiot, useless motherfucker. He whimpered, soft at the back of his throat. Would she be... alright? She had to be. He couldn’t shift back, tried and couldn’t. Dammit, fuck. He… He had to go. He had questions, but no thoughts about where to find answers. Had Salva been right about him?

#wickedswriting #para #Blanche #Unbreakable Oaths #Sunshine Riptide #:------)

[seapandora]

Sky High, Part 5

Steve x fem!reader

Part 4

A/N: This has been in the works for a while now. I want to apologize for all of those of you who have waited. Let me know if you´d like me to do a taglist! We´re closing in on the end, which I´m gonna love writing… Anyways, This is a part of my Series Sky High. Please consider reading the previous parts if you haven´t. It´s all part of @buckysknifecollection​ challenge that is ongoing until october. Check out the other entries as well. Please tell me your thoughts!

Warnings: Swearing (I swear a lot, okay), sexual innuendos (later chapters), alcohol, mentions of death/killing, mentions of religion(s), descriptions of toxic relationships!, talks about manipulation

Words: 2702

“Y/N, look. I´m not sure I can answer your questions. I… I can only answer for myself and my demons, and I don’t think I should consider your ties with heaven. We aren´t exactly playing for the same team. I needed the Nephilim, but you got to her first. Why she was your mission I can´t answer. Which is why I grabbed you as you were transferring and then we ended up Universe knows where. And then you just left me there. I have no idea what happened. I have never transferred with someone else before. I´m not as experienced in this world as you are,” Steve explained, and it was a nice way to say he wasn’t as ´old´ as Y/N. Not that she looked it at all.

She watched him but felt like he was telling her the truth, or most of it at least. “But why were you after the Nephilim?” She pressed thinking that might help her understand heavens' mission. Steve just shook her head which was answer enough for Y/N. She would have to figure it out herself then. Her mind immediately went to thinking what Nephilims were used for. It wasn’t much, but what she thought of scared her.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Steve asked and frowned as he stared at her. “No, sorry, I spaced out. You were saying?...” She answered and turned her attention back to the demon. “I was asking if you had received any missions since you came back?” He asked and took a sip of water from his glass. Y/N shook her head and sighed. “I´m on rest for now and I probably won´t be back for a few more days. I have been working non-stop for the past centuries, it´s nice to get a break every now and then.” She mumbled and clenched her jaw as she felt a migraine sneak through her head. She had had them recurringly the past few days. Well since she woke up in Rowor actually.

Steve nodded and sighed. “Yes, well I better get going before my knights starts to ask where I´ve run off to. I´m sorry I couldn’t be of more help Y/N. And thank you for letting me see this side of you,” He said and gave her a genuine smile, one he only reserved for special people. She had spaced out again so Steve simply got up and transferred back to hell where his two knights were waiting.

“Steve, there you are. We were about to send out a search team for ya man.” The taller one of the two said and patted Steve's shoulder. “We´ve found another Nephilim and have them here in hell. We figured you wouldn’t want another angel to get hold of one again,” The shorter demon continued. “Excellent, Sam, James. I need you both to do something for me, but no one can ever know. I need you to find out whether Heaven uses memory wiping as a means to keep their angels sharp. Don´t ask my reasons, I just need an answer, preferably as soon as possible. And while you're on it, find me a Cupid.” Steve said and looked at his most trusted demons. He trusted them with his soul… Well, he would have, if he had one.

Sam and James looked at one another before they looked back to where their boss had been standing. He was nowhere to be seen and they both shrugged before they played a game of rock, paper, scissors, to see who would get what task. In the end, Sam came out victorious and got to go find a cupid, while James was stuck finding lore on heaven.

The king of hell made his way to the dungeons where he finds the Nephilim the demons had found. He made quick work of it and soon enough had the Nephilims heart in his hand. It was still beating. He reached up and wiped his face, not that it helped a lot as his hand was as bloody as his face. He chuckled to himself as he got the heart of the Nephilim into a secure box. He locked it and placed the key in his pocket. He heard the flap of wings and looked around seeing a white dove again. “Really?”Steve asked and sighed as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands, not wanting to get any blood on the bird. He washed his face just for the sake of it before he got over to the little dove.

Steve checked the dove for a note and found it in the same kind of pouch the previous message had come in. ´Thank you for coming to see me, and thank you for taking the time to answer my questions. I still have a lot of them, but I truly appreciate it.´ The note said and Steve actually smiled a bit at the sweetness of the angel who had sent it. “Somebody come get him, he´s smiling like a moron,” Sam said and he managed to startle the king of hell. “I understood that reference idiot. I really need to ban TikTok down here before James gets a hold of it. Where is he by the way? And why are you here?” Steve asked and frowned as he looked at one of his two right-hand men.

“Well, idiot 2 couldn’t just go knock knock knocking on heavens door now could he. Plus, you kinda messed up the wifi down here so he has to go through proper books, and you know how he is with reading, fucking useless.” Sam answered and shrugged as he crossed his arms. “Hey, language or I´ll have you help him,” Steve replied and gave Sam a stern look. Sam held his hands up in defeat. “Sorry, sorry, anyway, I found a cupid, but there's a problem… Well actually more like nine problems.” Sam said and shrugged. “Apparently there´s only one cupid working right now and seeing as we need the bow, he´s our only option.” He continued and looked at his boss. Steve just sighed. Couldn’t he catch a break someday, couldn’t things be easier? They had been quite lucky with the Nephilim though.

Sam stared at his boss. “I can get my best demons and get the cupid, it´s going to be bloody tough,” he said and frowned. For being a demon, Sam really didn’t like killing others, no matter who they were. He was a more peaceful soul, or whatever he had. Steve thought for a moment but shook his head. “No, I think we should go about it another way. I don’t think Y/N would approve… I don´t approve of that much bloodshed.” Steve said and he hoped Sam wouldn’t notice his stuttering. Sam just shrugged. “A´ight, what do you want to do about it then?” Sam asked and crossed his arms. “Wait… Is that one of Sofie´s white doves?” He asked and walked over to the table behind Steve.

Steve frowned a bit. “You know of these doves?” He asked Sam and looked to the dove. “Of course I do, what's more, interesting is why she´s here and what could her caretaker want to tell you,” Sam said and looked at Steve knowingly. “I´m not saying you have to tell me and James everything, but don’t think we´re stupid.” He explained.

“Okay okay, I went to see Y/N. She had some questions about the mission, which she doesn’t remember and she doesn´t really understand why.” Steve explained with a sigh. “You like her. The king of hell I know wouldn’t go that out of his way for just anyone.” Sam said and tilted his head. He was judgmental at all, but more surprised if anything. He wasn’t opposed to relationships between different species, or whatever you´d like to call them. He had been in one himself. “She´s different Sam. She might have judged me in the beginning, but she didn’t when I went to see her. She just wanted me to tell her what I could. There wasn’t any pressure. She didn’t even care that I was a demon. Not a lot at least.” Steve explained and sighed to himself. She was different to him. She wasn’t all good, but she had good intentions.

Sam chuckled to himself and looked up as he heard James arrive in the room. “What´s going on. What are we talking about? I found something on heaven,” James said and looked between the two of them. “What did you find, quickly,” Steve said and pulled out a chair. “Well not a lot, but it seems like they use some sort of wiping to reset their angels. The earliest record of a wipe is from over 2000 years ago. Apparently, the angel wanted it and Maria granted their wishes. Couldn’t find a name though, just that they apparently weren’t very successful considering it was the first one.” James started and shrugged. “I don’t know how they did it though, probably some cruel brain poking.” He continued and shrugged.

Steve sighed and nodded. “Alright, good to know. I need you two on the cupid, don’t go at him, just study him and the angels guarding him. We´ve done a lot of progress in the past few days. We can afford to take it easy for a while.” He said and looked at the two demons in front of him. He was tired in all honesty, and he wasn’t willing to kill a couple of angels for a cupid. That would start a war. Not that killing a cupid would be much better, but hell better one cupid, than one cupid and several angels.

~ Rowor~

Y/N spent most of her time with the Sofwalings, they kept her calm and enjoyed playing with her hair, mostly braiding it. Y/N didn´t mind, she didn’t mind at all. Her grace was glowing from all the affection and love she got from the species. This was what she lived for. Their love fed her.

The talk she had with Steve had brought up memories. Memories she had asked to be removed. Maria had failed her then. Y/N hoped it wouldn’t happen again, but the past times she had been wiped it had gone as Maria wished. Y/N couldn’t remember much. She didn’t know of her previous 10 missions. She did feel like something was off though. Something had changed from the time of her mission to now and she was felt quite uneasy about it.

She didn´t like change and this felt like a bad change. She knew she had to do something about it. She just wasn’t sure what she would do yet. Could she overthrow another god? Of course, she could, but she had given it to Maria for a reason, she had to have faith Maria would come through before the end. But what if Maria had gone corrupt? Wasn’t it then Y/Ns responsibility to handle it? Considering she had given the position to Maria.

A breeze went through her little coppice and she took a deep breath. Y/N was unsure as to who she could talk to. Her fellow angels were all faithful to heaven and would surely tell on her if she shared her suspicions. Steve was the king of hell, he would use what she told him against heaven and thereby against Y/N as well. Humans didn’t care and the Sofwas couldn’t do anything. No, she had to do this on her own. She had to shut down heaven, or at least shut down Maria.

She had to start planning and the first step would be to get an understanding of what was going on. For that, she would need Steve, no matter how much it angered her to think that. But before all that, she needed a drink or a million. Sure she couldn’t get drunk, but it tasted fine and Nat kept a good bootle for her. That one would come in handy when it came to convincing Steve to help her.

Y/N got her blade and carved the rune to Nat's bar into her hand. It didn’t hurt her at all and before she knew it she was standing in the middle of Nat's bar. “Hey, you really need to quit doing that or I´ll charge for fixing the floor again,” Nat said as she wiped down the bar. She was obviously thinking it was a demon coming into her bar. “Yes well I wouldn’t want to pay for another creature's damage, now would I?” Y/N asked and sat down by the bar with a smile.

“Bless my demon soul… She lives” Nat smirked and handed her a glass of some dark liquid. “Yeah, well I´m not entirely sure I would be able to bless your soul… I don’t think any force in the universe could,” Y/N said and smiled softly. She had always had a friendship based on insults with Natasha. Neither of them took offense though, which was what made it so beautiful to watch.

Nat got a shot for herself and clinked her glass to the one she had given Y/N. “What brings you here? Last I heard you were on bed rest.” Natasha frowned and studied the angel in front of her. “I was… I am… It´s all a bit confusing, but I need help. I don’t trust heaven right now. I need to get in contact with Steve… I need his demons,” Y/N said and glanced up at Natasha to watch her reaction, which was none.

“So you admit, you need me?” Y/N heard a deep voice from behind her and she chuckled softly. “Hey Mr. Hell, no I don’t need you in particular, but I need your demons. Or at least those who are good at infiltration. I know you have a few,” Y/N shrugged and turned around. “Any chance we can borrow your backroom, Nat?” She continued and looked over at the bar owner who just tossed her the keys to the backroom.

Steve followed her into the backroom and leaned against the table as he waited for Y/N to settle down. “I need you to infiltrate heaven and find out as much as you can about their plans. Something is going on and as the angel of peace I need to know I´m not headed into another war.” She explained and looked up at Steve. She wasn’t expecting Steve to agree straight away, at least not without any hooks.

He just nodded. “Alright, okay, we can do that. I… I asked one of my demons to look into what they did to you after your latest mission. He didn’t find anything and he doesn’t know anything, I was just curious and wo… yeah, just curious.” He said quietly and slowly, half hoping it would pass straight over her head.

“Ohh… well… I can´t help you there I´m afraid.” She sighed softly. She then frowned as she realized Steve hadn't asked for anything in return for his demons infiltrating heaven and it scared her. “I am an up-front deal, kind of person Steve, I don’t like hidden fees, so if there is anything you want, tell me.” Y/N said and looked at him with narrowed eyes. Steve laughed at her synonym and shook his head. “I don’t have any hidden agendas doll. I think you’ve been through enough, the least I can do is help you” He smiled and winked at her.

Y/N stood up and nodded. “Well thank you, Steve, I highly appreciate it!” She said and placed her hand on his arm as she passed by him to get back to the bar. “I also do it because I… I like you Y/N. There's something about you that speaks to me.” Steve said and looked over at Y/N. She was frozen in place. This couldn’t be happening, right? The king of hell? And her? An angel? Y/N turned her head to look at him. He looked her straight in the eyes, a sign of him telling the truth. She felt a tug in her chest and was tempted to reach up and feel at her chest for a wound, but she knew better. That was her heart twitching.

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